


Small Hands in my own Calloused Ones

by i_dont_use_this_account_anymore



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Chronic Illness, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Gentle Rick Sanchez (Rick and Morty), Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Illustrations, M/M, Major Illness, Multiple Sclerosis, POV Alternating, POV Morty, POV Rick, Platonic Relationships, Terminal Illnesses, Whump
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-04
Updated: 2020-02-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:34:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22104892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_dont_use_this_account_anymore/pseuds/i_dont_use_this_account_anymore
Summary: When Rick reunites with his daughter after nearly twenty years, he thought he knew just what to expect; an emotional daughter on his hands, a dumbass of a son-in-law to deal with, an apathetic granddaughter, and a dumb but adventure-seeking grandson. He gets all of that except the last part. What he does get? A chronically ill grandson.
Relationships: Rick Sanchez & Morty Smith, Rick Sanchez/Morty Smith
Comments: 51
Kudos: 213





	1. chaos like none other

**Author's Note:**

> hello, i’m in a new fandom! if you’re new to my content, i’m an expert in writing whumps, hurt/comforts, and angst filled fics.
> 
> also! this fic was inspired by [this](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/11715929/1/Liquor-and-Bedsheets) on FF.net! go read it if you want but it sadly isn’t finished :( so i decided to make my own version because i loved the prompt so much!!
> 
> now that i’m done with my rambling, happy reading!

Rick Sanchez stood hesitantly on the stairs of a suburban house. It was January 20th, and the house he stood upon belonged to none other than Rick’s daughter, Beth Smith. And although the man seemingly never lacked confidence, he was feeling pretty unsure of his decision to reunite with his daughter. 

Rick sighed, trying to find an ounce of motivation to raise his hand to ring the doorbell. It’d be a lot easier to just cut off all ties with his child. But Rick did urgently need a place to stay at the moment, especially to hide out from the intergalactic government...

Finally convincing himself to _stop_ _ being a pussy_ , Rick boldly rang the doorbell. He could’ve easily been able to portal himself in there, but he figured his first impression in years on Beth ought not to be of him randomly entering the house through a portal, which might be against her wishes. (Another reason was so that Rick could possibly have time to talk himself out of his bullshit, but that wasn’t important.)

Upon hearing the doorbell, a presumably teenage girl yelled throughout the house that she would answer the door. 

_ That must be Summer _ , Rick thought to himself, whipping out his hip-flask to take a much-needed drink of alien liquor. He was fairly familiar with the Smith family, due to a few Ricks from other dimensions having already met their Beth’s family.

There was the sound of a lock being undone and then Rick was looking at his granddaughter for the first time as she opened the door. Summer Smith wore her strawberry blonde hair in a high ponytail, the long hair flowing down onto her pink tank top. She had a look of apathy on her face as she stood back to observe Rick, holding her phone to her chest as she did so.

“Uhh, can I help you?” She asked with a judgmental tone.

Rick stifled a burp (to no avail) and Summer’s look of apathy quickly morphed into one of disgust. Rick smirked. “Urgh—yeah, well, c-can you get your mother for me? It’s imp—OURGH—important.”

Summer rolled her eyes and backed away. She turned away and yelled, “Mom! There’s someone at the door for you!” and turned on her phone, presumably to text her friends, or whatever teenagers did these days. As if realizing Rick was still there, she faced him again and said, “One second,” and closed the door in Rick’s face.

Rick scoffed and crossed his arms. He waited for a few minutes, already regretting not portaling into the home, when the sound of footsteps neared the door. Rick fixed his posture, stowing away his flask that he’d brought out during the wait. As much as he may have denied it, he was excited to see his daughter after nearly twenty years.

Just like before, Rick heard the telltale sounds of a lock being adjusted and the door swung open to reveal Beth Smith. Her hair looked eerily similar to her mother’s, as did her features, and Rick couldn’t help the small smile that danced onto his face as he observed his little girl. Rick wasn’t a very sentimental guy, but he seemed to be more emotional than usual today.

“Can I help y—“ Beth cut herself off with her realization at who was at the door. She froze and Rick did as well—he was anticipating a slap, a scream, a door slamming right in his face, nothing short of what he probably deserved—but Beth’s only response was, “...Dad?”

Rick sighed and nodded. “That’s right, Beth, it’s me, y-your dad—“ Beth cut him off with a hug that was more like a tackle, one arm slung around his neck—as if he were now in a headlock—and another gripping the back of his lab coat. Emotional whimpers were heard in Rick’s ear as Beth sobbed into his shoulder. Rick tried to quell the urge to roll his eyes as he began to pat his distraught daughter on the back. Rick didn’t fare too well with people who were driven by their emotions; in fact, he typically despised them. But this was his daughter and he would try his hardest to not be an ass right now.

Apparently confused as to why his wife was taking so long, Jerry Smith ( _ the bastard _ , Rick thought as he caught sight of him) walked through the front door to see what the commotion was. “Beth?” Jerry asked, his voice grabbing Beth’s attention and causing her to turn away from Rick and face her husband. “Uh, who is this guy?” 

Rick snarled. It was just  typical  for the man to have impregnated Rick’s daughter to forget who his father-in-law was. Though, Rick remembered in amusement, the last interaction they’d had together was of Rick knocking Jerry unconscious after learning that he’d deflowered Beth and knocked her up while he was at it. So maybe Rick didn’t 100% blame Jerry for not remembering who Rick was. But still, it was a dick move on Jerry’s part to forget who Rick was.

“This,” Beth gestured to Rick as she sniffed, still recovering from her crying, “is my father, Jerry.”

Suddenly, a flash of recognition appeared in Jerry’s eyes as he shoved past Beth and jabbed a finger at Rick’s chest. “You!!” Jerry exclaimed, a vein suddenly popping up in his forehead.

“Me,” Rick said in indifference. He pulled out his flask, drinking from it, and Jerry backed away to join Beth’s side. He could hear the two bicker as Beth scolded Jerry for ‘acting so rude to her father’. Rick grinned around the rim of his flask as he listened to Jerry splutter out an excuse.  _ Same dynamic as always_ , Rick thought, stuffing his flask away.

With a loud belch, Rick caught the attention of his daughter and son-in-law. “So are we just going to st-stand here out in your lawn all day?”

Beth blinked, processing his words, and then smiled. She shook her head. “No, I’m sorry, Dad. Why don’t you come inside?”

Jerry began to protest but Rick walked right past him. “I’d love that, sweetie.”

In his peripheral vision, he could see Beth practically melt at his use of the pet name. Jerry let out an exasperated groan that caused Beth to turn towards him.

“Jerry, if you don’t want to get locked outside of your own house, you better get your act together—“

Rick shook his head and entered the house. As fun as it was listening to Beth threaten the man she married, it would get old fast, so he tuned the conversation out and observed the entryway. Rick had to give it to his daughter, she and Jerry had picked out a nice home. 

Rick was observing a painting of a horse fondly ( _horses must still be Beth’s favorite animal_ ,  Rick thought) when the front door closed. Rick looked over to see his daughter and an aggravated Jerry at her side.

Jerry marched off to do who-knows-what while Beth walked forward, holding her arms open for another hug. Rick enveloped Beth in his arms, reciprocating the hug. 

They held it for a few seconds before Rick moved away. A look of hurt flashed across Beth’s face before it was quickly concealed. “It’s good to see you again, Dad,” Beth said sappily.

Rick cleared his throat. “Uh, y-yeah, it’s uh, good to see you again too, Beth.”

Beth smiled until a look of curiosity settled on her face. Rick, already knowing what her question was going to be, barely suppressed another roll of his eyes. “But Dad—why did you come back? You’ve been gone for almost eighteen years.”

“Well uh—I wanted to come and see y-you, of course,” Rick said carefully, “but I’m—URPP—kind o-of wanted by the-the intergalactic government.”

Beth’s eyebrows shot up in alarm and she opened her mouth to no doubt interrogate him, but Rick held out his hand and silenced her. “N-n-n-no, Beth, be-before you ask, you won’t be endangered by me staying here. E-earth is off their grid, I d-don’t think they’re even aware of human e-existence. O-or at least, they don’t consider our existence a threat.” Rick said.

Beth’s expression was calmed to one of dismay, but her fears appeared to be extinguished. At least, Rick thought they were until Beth spoke up again.

“Well...alright, I guess,” Beth said. “But did you really want to see me again? I-I mean, you kind of seem to have other motives—“

“No, B-Beth, if I had just wanted a place t-t-to stay I could’ve just crashed in a—EUGH—an apartment somewhere. But I wanted to see you,” Rick said, trying to come off as earnest as possible. It was somewhat true, but there was an additional bonus for him staying at the Smith house. A bonus that included a particular grandchild being able to mask his brain waves.

Beth smiled and gave her father a brief hug. “Thanks, Dad.”

Rick patted her back and stepped away, picking up a nearby framed picture of the entire Smith family from off a table. It included a younger yet more tired-looking Beth, a smiling Jerry, Summer, who looked to be a toddler, and a baby bundled in a yellow blanket, who Rick guessed was his grandson, Morty Smith.

Rick startled as Beth looked over his shoulder to see what he was holding. Now knowing what it was that Rick was inspecting, Beth smiled. 

She pointed at the younger version of Summer. “Dad, that’s your granddaughter, Summer. She was the one who answered the door for you.” Beth then pointed at the baby swaddled up in a blanket. “And this little one here is Morty, your grandson.” Beth’s smile grew wistful as she recounted Morty, and Rick ever so slightly narrowed his eyes. Deciding it was nothing, Rick gave a small shake of his head. Of course, he already knew about the Smith family, especially of Morty, but Beth didn’t know that, so he sat through her descriptions of her children.

When Beth was done with informing Rick of his grandkids, her eyes widened as Rick’s stomach gave a growl. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry Dad, I was so caught up in seeing you again. Would you like something to eat, drink?”

Rick shrugged. “H-hey, Beth, I don’t m-mind. But something to eat would be great.”

Beth smiled and began to lead him through a dining room and into a kitchen. Beth had Rick sit down at a counter as she scurried around the kitchen, pulling a plate out of a cabinet. “Now, is there anything in particular you’d want, Dad? We have some macaroni and cheese leftover from last night, some tuna salad from the night before—“ 

“Anything would be fine, Beth,” Rick reassured her. Beth smiled over her shoulder and took a Tupperware of macaroni and cheese out from the refrigerator.

As Rick watched from his spot at the counter, Summer walked in, halting as she saw Rick.

“You actually let him in here?” Summer asked quizzically, looking at her mother.

Beth paused to look at her daughter. “Summer!” She exclaimed. “Don’t be rude!”

“Why can’t I be? I don’t even know who this guy is!”

Rick snorted as Beth sighed and pinched her temples. “Summer, this is your grandpa.”

Summer’s eyes widened. “Wait—“ Summer quickly regarded Rick. “You’re grandpa Rick?”

“The one and only—i-in this dimension right now, a-at least.” Rick clarified. 

Summer appeared to be shocked but then said, “Whatever,” and sat down next to Rick at the counter. She began to text on her phone and Beth rolled her eyes as she served the plate of macaroni and cheese to her father. 

Rick took a bite right as Jerry walked into the kitchen. His expression fell as he saw Rick sitting down at the counter. “What’s he still doing here?”

Beth groaned and turned towards her husband. “Jerry, I swear to god, stop acting like my father is unwanted!”

Rick abruptly stood up and carried his plate. “A-and that’s my cue to leave,” Rick said, walking towards an archway leading out into a living room. 

Summer looked up from her phone and stood up as well. “Yeah, same.”

Rick and Summer left the arguing couple to fight in the kitchen as they both moved to sit on the couch.

Summer turned on the Tv to some trashy soap opera. Rick was ready to jeer at her choice of Tv show, but as he watched it, he was surprised to find that it was decent. But it still had nothing on interdimensional cable. 

The two watched Tv in silence, Rick still eating his pasta, when after a moment, Summer spoke up. “So you’re really grandpa Rick?”

Rick rolled his eyes. “We’ve already—OUGH—established this, Summer. Yes, I’m y-your ‘grandpa Rick’.”

Summer sighed. “Sorry, you just didn’t look the way I pictured you.”

“What, did you not think I’d be an alcoholic? Sheesh, you’re r-real quick to judge.”

“No, it’s not that!” Summer rushed to defend herself. “It’s just...I guess I don’t really know how I pictured you?”

Rick shrugged. “Well, here I am, in the-in the flesh.”

Summer crossed her arms and turned her attention back to the Tv, something Rick was perfectly content with.

After Rick had finished eating, Summer looked over at him. Rick groaned loudly. “W—URP—hat now?”

Summer narrowed her eyes. “It’s just...did you actually go on all of those adventures?” Summer asked. She twirled a bit of her hair with her finger as she waited for a response.

Rick took out his flask, taking a long sip before he answered. “J-Jesus, why are you s-still fixated o-on my a-appearance? L—URGH—ook, I’m sorry that I d-don’t fit your image of me—“

“No, stop it, I’m over all that,” Summer scoffed. “I was just trying to say, is it true that you went on all those adventures? Mom used to tell Morty and me stories about your experiences. All I’m trying to ask is if they were some bullshit stories that Mom made up.”

Rick raised his unibrow. “Oh. Sh-she told you stories about m-me?”

Summer furrowed her brows. “Uhh, yeah? She would tell them to Morty and me before we went to sleep some nights. I think there were a few about you in space or something?”

Rick’s chest swelled up in what one would describe as pride. “W-well, ye—AUGH—I guess those are real s-stories.”

Summer hummed. “So what are you, like, an astronaut?”

Rick barked a laugh. “You-you think I’m a fucking  _ astronaut_ ? Astronauts a-are pretentious cocksuckers that l-like to c-call themselves special. T-They’re like the jocks of science,” Rick said. “N-no, Summer, I’m a scientist. No, not e-even that, I’m a fucking  _ genius_ , a pr-practical God if they were to exist, which they  _ don’t_ .”

Summer held up her arms in surrender. “God, okay, cocky much? I can see where Mom gets her unyielding Atheism.”

Rick nodded. “Da-damn right.”

The two resumed watching Tv, which, during their discussion, had shifted to commercial. 

Rick grimaced at how boring they were. He hadn’t watched regular Tv in years and he’d forgotten how dull everything was.

As another draining commercial was shown, Rick turned to face Summer, engaging in a new conversation. “S-s-so, you mentioned your brother earlier, where is he? ‘S he like, I dunno, h-hanging out with friends or s-something? I kind of w-want to meet him.”

Summer’s expression turned into one of confusion. “What do you mean?”

Rick regarded her confusion with a look of apathy. “What do  _you_ mean? Where is h-he?”

Suddenly, understanding dawned on Summer’s face. “Wait, did they not  _tell you_ ?”

Rick growled. “T-tell me what, goddammit!? You—y’know—you’re being  very  difficult right now, v-very discreet, just spit it out!”

Summer looked away, a sigh escaping the teen. “He... Morty’s sick, grandpa Rick. Like, really sick. I-it’d probably be best to just ask Mom about it but... Morty can’t even get out of bed most days.”


	2. insight is key

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rick learns about Morty’s chronic illness and Morty meets Rick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahhh, the feedback on this fic has been mind blowing!! thank you all so much! this has probably been the warmest welcome into a new fandom that i’ve received up to date.
> 
> also, i’m sorry if anyone seems ooc in this one; i’ll admit that writing this one was a bit difficult, but it had to happen.
> 
> happy reading!

Rick stared at Summer.

_No, surely not,_ Rick thought. Summer was fucking with him. She had to be. He’d seen other Mortys walking around the Citadel with their Ricks... They’d all looked like dipshits, but they were  _healthy_ dipshits.

“Are...are y-you fucking w-with me?”  Rick asked. He knew, deep down, that Summer was most likely being serious but he _still_ _ had to ask._

Summer crossed her arms over her chest defensively, leaning into herself. “No, grandpa Rick,” She snapped. “I’m serious. Why would I joke about that? My little brother’s basically paralyzed, does that sound funny to you?”

Rick’s expression changed from disbelief to resignation. “F-fuckin’ hell,” He muttered to himself.

Summer looked up and over to Rick. Her expression softened as well. “Look, like I said, it’s probably better to ask Mom. She can go into more detail if you care.” And just like that, Summer ended the conversation, getting up and walking away. 

Rick watched her retreating form and sighed, facing the Tv as Summer went outside. 

Rick was, for once in a long time, at a loss of what to do. Rick had planned on taking Morty on millions of adventures! Could he still do that with a kid who couldn’t walk?

“Goddammit, Rick, you s-sound like an ableist...” Rick groaned to himself.

He sat there for only a few more seconds before he finally decided that he should put his plate up.  So, picking up his now empty plate, Rick crossed the living room and entered the kitchen.

Beth and Jerry had stopped with their fighting, and Beth was drinking a glass of wine while Jerry practically sulked in the corner.

“H-hey, Beth, th-the food was great,” Rick said, laying his plate down on the counter next to the sink. 

Beth beamed, placing her glass of wine on a nearby table. “Aww, thank you, Dad.”

Jerry muttered something unintelligible to himself and Rick sent a smug look his way. Jerry bristled upon receiving Rick’s look.

Rick reached for the sponge and Beth, seeing that he was about to wash the plate himself, leaped out to grab his hand. “No, Dad, you don’t have to do that! I can wash your plate for you,” Beth offered, taking Rick’s plate.

Rick smiled and placed a hand on his daughter’s shoulder. Internally, he grimaced to himself. Yes, he may ‘love’ (even when regarding his kin, Rick still stood by his definition of love because it was _correct_ ) his daughter, but there was only so long that he could be so... lovey-dovey towards her.

Rick placed himself at his earlier seat and Jerry emerged from his corner. His eyes were narrowed and his arms were crossed—almost the epitome of a man who had once been the man of the house but was quickly dethroned from his title in less than an hour. Pretty pathetic, if you were to ask Rick.

“So,” Jerry began, and Rick rolled his eyes, “Beth told me you’ll be... staying with us.”

Rick nodded. Rick knew his grin was hubristic and he took pride in it. “Y—UUP.”

Jerry scowled. “Any, I don’t know, _idea_ as to how long you’re staying?”

Beth turned around and glared at her husband. “Jerry—” She started, but Rick cut her off.

“No, no, it’s o-okay, Beth. It’s—it’s a genuine question, I get it,” Rick reassured her. Beth quirked her lips and turned back to scrubbing away at the plate. Rick’s devilish grin returned as he addressed Jerry. “And to answer your question, _Jerry,_ I don’t know  how  long I’m staying.”

Jerry looked like he was about to pitch a fit, but Rick pointed towards Beth, causing Jerry to shut his mouth immediately.

“And that’s no problem at all, right, Jerry?” Beth said, turning around and drying her hands on a towel.

Jerry’s shoulders tensed. “Yes, honey,” He said through clenched teeth.

Beth looked pleased with Jerry’s response. Seeing that everything was apparently at peace, Rick decided to ask about what’d been on his mind during the whole conversation. “So uh, Beth... w-what’s wrong with M-Morty?”

Rick almost frowned at his way of phrasing it—but it was out there already, no taking it back now. 

Beth bit her lip and even Jerry had an identical look of hesitation on his face. The room was tense and Rick had no idea how to ease it.

Beth cleared her throat. “Well... what do you mean?” She inquired. Rick could tell that she knew exactly what he meant, but Rick answered her anyway.

“I was just talking to Summer and—and she said that Morty was s—IGH—ck. What’s. _Wrong?_ ”

Beth exhaled quietly and ran a hand over her face. She reached for her discarded wine glass and took a gulp. 

“It’s... Kind of complicated, Dad...” Beth said. 

Rick interrupted, “Well I _am_ the smartest man in the multiverse. I think I could understand some basic pathology.”

Beth gave a small quirk of her lips at that and took another sip of wine. Jerry, still wearing a look of unease, approached her and placed a tentative hand on her shoulder. Beth didn’t flinch, surprising Rick, and instead leaned into her husband’s touch. 

“Alright, Dad. You wanted to know, so now I’m telling you. I mean, you would’ve found out sooner or later, what with Morty having to come downstairs to eat dinner with us, but I guess we’re doing the sooner route,” Beth said. “Morty... Morty has multiple sclerosis. I assume you know of it, Dad?”

Rick nodded, wincing. He was aware of it and what it did to its host and it was  not _pretty._ “I’m fair-fairly familiar with it.”

Beth bobbed her head. “Well, we only caught it when he was eleven, but his neurologist thinks that—due to the severity of his condition now—Morty has had it for a while. Ever since he was six, I think.” Jerry nodded along with Beth’s statement.

“H-how—URP—how s-severe is Morty’s condition?” Rick asked. He had an idea building up in his mind that had the potential to benefit him and allow Morty to come on adventures with the scientist. It all depended on one variable though.

Though the question had been aimed at Beth, this time, Jerry answered. “Well, I’m no expert, Beth’s gone to almost every appointment, but Morty’s MS has eaten up the Maryland—”

“Myelin,” Beth corrected.

“Didn’t I say that?” Jerry asked, abruptly taking his hand off of her shoulder.

“No, you said the state, Maryland. It’s myelin.”

Rick, sensing that the two could go on for hours, interrupted. “Morty’s MS h-h-has eaten up what now?” He said in exasperation, veering the couple back in the right direction.

Beth coughed pointedly and continued to say what Jerry hadn’t. “Morty’s MS has eaten up the  _myelin_ on most of his nerves below his hip, which gives him a pretty limited sense of mobility. And, just recently, there’s been a lack of muscle strength in his respiratory system that requires him to be put on oxygen while he sleeps.”

Rick frowned, tapping a finger on his chin. “So would you say th—AUGH—at there’s still some untouched nerves in the lower half of his central nervous system?”

Beth looked at him quizzically. “I...guess?”

Rick considered it. He knew of a planet that had an extremely advanced medicinal field, but he wasn’t sure if they had invented neuroregenerative medicine yet—at least, medicine to heal Morty’s nerves to his degree. 

“If... if you’re thinking of curing his MS, I don’t know if you should tell him,” Beth said. Rick was startled out of his thoughts, turning his focus to his offspring.“MS is, quite frankly, untreatable. And Dad, I know full well that you’re the smartest man in the world, and I admire you for that, but do you think that you can treat even the untreatable? I think... as much as it crushes me, that you shouldn’t get Morty’s hopes up. He’s been so depressed ever since his diagnosis and I’d hate to see what kind of depression he’d spiral into if he was told that he  _really_ couldn’t be helped.”

The kitchen was silent as Beth’s words processed in all three of their minds. 

“Well fuck,” Rick breathed. Suddenly, he stood up. “Can you tell me where his room is?”

Beth looked taken aback by the topic change, as did Jerry, though Jerry looked at Rick in suspicion. “Uh...What are you doing?” asked Beth.

Rick sighed. “Look, I-I’m going to have to-t-to see the full extent of his disability in o—OURGH—der to see what all I can help with. But after that, I’ll stop, kid won’t even have to know. Where’s his room?” Rick repeated.

“Dad, I don’t know if that’s such a good idea, he’s sleeping—”

“G-good, even more of chance that he won’t know,” Rick justified.

Beth ran a hand through her hair. “Fine,” She relented hesitantly. “Go upstairs, his room is the last one on the right.”

Rick nodded and turned to leave.

He heard a whispered conversation erupt as he exited the kitchen. “Beth, are you sure about this?” Jerry asked, a look of concern on his face.

Beth hardened her jaw. “No. But if anyone can cure Morty, it’d be my dad.”

Rick steeled himself. He barely knew the kid, and he was probably annoying as fuck if he was like any of the Mortys from different dimensions were, but goddammit, Rick would try. After all, he needed a sidekick.

* * *

Rick approached the door and pressed an ear to it. He heard no sounds signaling that anyone was awake, so he twisted the doorknob and walked in.

The room was dark, but from what Rick could see of it, relatively clean, especially since its inhabitant was a teen boy. _A disabled teen boy_ , Rick thought, which, yeah, his lack of movement  would  affect his environment, but still.

He squinted, trying to make out everything in the dark, as it seemed that Morty’s curtains were draped over his window.

Rick could make out a figure on the bed, which was obviously Morty. He approached him, taking in Morty’s form.

Even in the darkness, Rick could make out Morty’s sleeping face. His high cheekbones were almost jutting out of his face. His skin seemed pale, almost translucent, even in the dark, which certainly set him apart from all the other Mortys who had a slight tan. He also wore a nasal cannula which appeared to be connected to an oxygen concentrator near his bed. 

In the dark, Rick couldn’t 100% tell what state Morty was in, but judging by a short glance at his stick-like arms, he was certainly scrawnier than what was healthy.

Suddenly, Morty stirred, causing Rick to halt in his investigation. He wouldn’t have typically cared if he had been seen in someone’s room when they woke up, but since this would be Morty’s first time seeing Rick (that he remembered) he would have no fucking idea who the hell Rick was, so Rick decided it was best to get out before he would seriously scare the kid. And besides, he really didn’t need any annoying questions concerning who Rick was.

Exiting the room as quietly as he could, Rick exhaled, pressing his body weight against the now-closed door.

From what Rick could see in the dark, his grandson was _not_ in good condition. 

He’d just have to wait for dinner, when Morty was supposed to come and eat with them, to see how the boy was faring. It couldn’t be _that bad._ It wouldn’t be anything Rick couldn’t fix.

Rick tried not to tell himself otherwise.

* * *

Morty Smith woke up as he heard his mother shout through the house that dinner was ready. Morty groaned and stretched as much as he could in his bed. His leg muscles gave sad little muscle spasms and Morty sighed. He stretched his arms in the air as he heard footsteps approaching his bedroom door.

His door cracked open as Morty rubbed his eyes. He could see through his eyelids that his overhead light had been turned on, and he sensed someone approaching his bed. 

“H-hey, S-Summer,” Morty stuttered.

Summer didn’t look at him as she approached his oxygen concentrator. “Hey, dork,” she said.

Morty sat up in his bed and faced his sister. She wore a light smile as she twisted the knobs and dials to turn off his oxygen for him. Morty reached towards his face to take his nasal cannula out, reaching behind his ears to rip the fabric tape that kept them secure off.

Morty laid the nasal cannula on his bedside table, making a mental note to replace the cannula later. He grabbed a pair of jeans on his bed and slid them on over his boxers.

Summer stood up, having finished adjusting Morty’s oxygen generator, and turned towards Morty.

“W-w-what are we having f-for dinner?” Morty asked as he slid out of his bed. He winced as he tried to support himself on his feet, and Summer caught his forearm, steadying him. This was their nightly routine, and they’d done it so much that they’d both perfected it, but it still humiliated Morty every time that he couldn’t even stand by himself.

“Steak and mashed potatoes,” Summer replied, helping him walk to the door.

Morty raised an eyebrow. “We n-never have s-steak. W-what’s t-the occasion?”

Summer shrugged. “We have a guest.”

Morty furrowed his brows. He looked at his sister as if she was crazy. “Who?”

Summer rolled her eyes. “God, Morty, you’re curious today. You’ll see when we get you downstairs.”

Morty huffed impatiently as the two neared the stairs. This was where Morty’s legs typically got wobbly, so Summer gripped his arm tighter.

“I-I-I’m not g-gonna fall down th-the goddamn s-stairs, Summer,” Morty said as her grip got almost unbearably tight.

“You might, you have before,” Summer reminded him with a smirk.

“O-okay, that was o-one t-time, Summer, a-a-and I was high on p-pain killers! T-that barely c-counts.”

“Whatever you say, dweeb,” Summer said teasingly.

They were at the bottom of the stairs now, and Summer, fortunately, loosened her grip to something much more bearable. She had Morty sit down in his wheelchair that was parked by the front door and wheeled Morty to the dining room. Summer walked Morty to his spot before sitting down herself.

Morty instantaneously noticed the new person seated at the head of the table. It was honestly hard  not  to notice him. He had crazy eye-catching blue hair, grayish skin, and wore a lab coat. He also seemed to be looking at Morty as if he was in deep thought. His gaze almost seemed judgmental.  _Okay, who the hell is this guy?_ Morty asked himself.

Beth suddenly came out from the kitchen and noticed her son staring at the odd man. “Morty,” She said, catching his attention, “this is your grandpa Rick.”

Morty bit his lip in curiosity. He’d heard that name before, he was sure of it. Suddenly, a flood of memories came rushing into his mind, and he cocked his head at the man. “L-like, the one y-you t-t-told us stories about?” Morty asked his mom.

“That’s him,” Summer answered for Beth. 

“He’ll be staying with us for a while,” Beth said, sitting down in her seat. Jerry, who was sitting across from Morty, scrunched his face up in distaste, and it was quite obvious to Morty that his father was not fond of Rick.

“H-h-hey, Morty,” Rick said, suddenly breaking his thoughtful silence.

“H-hi,” said Morty, flushing slightly. Seeing both Beth and Summer begin to eat, Morty held his fork and began to pick at his still steaming mashed potatoes, following their lead.

The sound of utensils clinking against plates filled the room as everyone took their first bites. Rick made a humming noise, attracting Morty’s attention.

“Mmmm, Beth, this—this is good, real good. I’m sure your mother would be pr—URP—oud,” Rick said after he swallowed his food. Morty looked over to his mother, who appeared to have practically melted to mush at Rick’s approval.

“Thanks, Dad,” She said, wearing a warm smile. Morty staggered, seeing his mom’s expression. It’d been forever since he’d seen his mother wear such a  big  smile.

Meanwhile, Jerry had inhaled loudly through his nose, but everyone paid him no mind.

“So, Mom, what happened at work today?” Summer asked as she lifted a forkful of steak to her mouth.

“Oh, nothing much, only had to give one horse surgery today, something minor, so I got to come home early,” Beth said nonchalantly.

Rick suddenly sneered. “A-a-and what about _you,_ Jerry?”

Jerry shrugged. “Not much happened, it was a regular day in the office. Had to attend a board meeting—they should be called a  _bored meeting_ ,  am I right?” Jerry joked.

Nobody laughed. Morty cringed.

Jerry gave a long-suffering sigh and continued his story. “Some asshole almost spilled his hot coffee on me. But, since I attended the meeting, I got to come home early.” 

Morty looked over to Rick and saw that Rich looked oddly surprised by his dad’s answer.

_Why would Rick be surprised?_ Morty asked himself. That was a pretty normal workday, in Morty’s opinion.

“W-w-what’s w-wrong, er, g-grandpa Rick?” Morty asked, unsure of how to refer to his grandfather. The table, instead of focusing on his nearly unintelligible sentence caused by his stutter, looked to his stunned grandfather.

Rick cleared his throat and shook his head. “Ah, uh, n-nothing.”

Morty narrowed his eyes as he stared at Rick. It didn’t _ look _ like nothing, but Morty shook it off, turning back to his meal.

Dinner passed by like normal, and Morty stayed seated (what else _could_ he do?) when everyone got up to put their dishes away. Beth picked Morty’s up for him, and Morty stayed at the table, resting his head on his hand as he gave a sigh. It honestly sucked being the only person in a five-mile radius that couldn’t walk by themselves, not counting old people.

When Summer emerged from the kitchen, Morty eyed her, about to engage in their routine, when Rick came out of the kitchen and sat down in his chair that he’d sat in during dinner. Morty glanced at him curiously. 

“H-hey, M—OURGH—ty, wanna—wanna come out to the garage with me?” Rick said, pointing backward to signify the garage.

Morty widened his eyes slightly, as did Summer, but she shrugged and leaned against the wall to hear Morty’s answer.

“Uh, m-me?” Morty asked, making sure Rick wasn’t messing with him. Morty didn’t know him very well, but hardly anybody ever asked him if he wanted to do anything. Hell, barely his family asked him anything unless it was to ask if he was okay.

_Maybe that’s what Rick’s trying to do_ _,_ Morty thought to himself.

Rick rolled his eyes. “No, Mortimer Mouse from fucking  _Mickey Mouse._ Yes, you. Now d-do you want to or not?”

“I—a-aw jeez, uh, o-okay,” Morty said. He looked to Summer, who gave a shrug, and left the room, probably to watch some Tv.

Rick nodded. “A-alright,” and began to get up, moving towards the garage. Morty furrowed his eyebrows.

Rick suddenly stopped in his tracks, doubling back. “I uh... g-guess I have to h-help you,” Rick said. His unibrow was curved down the middle, and Rick looked almost peeved by the notion that he had to help his grandson out. 

“U-u-uh, y-yeah...” Morty said tentatively. Rick sighed and moved to get behind Morty’s chair. He pushed him towards the garage harsher and faster than anyone else did it. Not that Morty particularly  minded—in fact, he’d always found it a little irritating whenever he was being wheeled and the person walking him treated him like a porcelain doll. He had a muscle condition, not fucking osteoporosis.

Rick opened the door leading into the garage for Morty and led him in, stopping once Morty was in the center of the room.

Morty’s eyes widened as he took in the sight of the garage. It looked like it was right out of a sci-fi movie—beakers and Erlenmeyer flasks filled with colorful substances littered the counters, as well as randomly scattered tools, and even a few nefarious looking weapons were laid out on the surface. Even though it’d been a while—probably around half a year—since Morty’d been in the garage, it looked entirely different from the way it had before.

Rick noticed Morty’s wonder and grinned, placing a hand on Morty’s shoulder.

“Like—URP—t-the improvements I made, M-Morty?” Rick gestured to the garage. “I-I-I fixed it up a bit, changed it from your dad’s lame garage. Did he e-even use it?”

Morty chuckled nervously. “O-o-only like o-once every f-five months.”

Rick snickered, shaking his head. He went over to the counter to inspect a random gadget.

Morty craned his neck to see what he was looking at. From Morty’s limited view of it, it looked like a lit-up snow globe.

As if he had eyes in the back of his head, Rick turned around and walked towards his grandson to show Morty the object. “This, Morty, is a beacon compound. I-i-it helps you find y-your way out of—out of a room with seemingly no way out of it by using light.”

Morty observed the spherical object. He looked up to face his grandpa. “D-did you build it? Y-yourself?”

“Y—HUGH—up, sure did, Morty. I-it’s not done yet, though, I h-haven’t perfected the formula yet. It just makes it s-so that you get _trapped_ , which it obviously shouldn’t be doing,” Rick shrugged. He set it down on top of a filing cabinet. Rick leaned against the counter, inspecting Morty.

Morty fidgeted, not necessarily liking the unfamiliar attention.

“S-so, grandpa Rick—” Morty said.

“J-j-just call me Rick, Morty,” said Rick. He looked vaguely annoyed now. “Gr-grandpa makes me feel old, like I have saggy balls or something.”

Morty startled at the crudeness that escaped Rick. Sure, while Rick had said ‘fuck’ earlier, Morty wasn’t used to adults (especially older people) referring to their genitals. 

“...Right... Uh, R-Rick, then, uh... wh-why’d you ask me t-to come here?” Morty asked.

Rick shrugged. “I dunno, felt like it.” Rick grinned—actually, it looked like more of a snarl to Morty, but his lips  _were_ curving upwards. “S-see, Morty, first thing you’ve gotta learn about me is when I f-feel like doing something, I do it.”

“Uh, o-okay, Rick,” Morty said. He looked at the man inquisitively.

Rick stared at him in return, almost as if he was looking into Morty’s soul. “Huh,” The blue-haired man said to himself after a moment.

“Wh-what is it?” Morty pried.

Rick loured. “Y-y’know, you ask a lot of questions.”

Morty huffed an anxious laugh and Rick clucked his tongue. “I was j-j-just thinking—can you not propel yourself while you’re in your chair?” Rick pondered.

Morty shrugged. “I-I-I mean—n-not—not really? I can on some days, i-if I’m up for it, but n-normally, no...”

“Then w-why don’t you h—AUGH—ave an electric wheelchair?” Rick crossed his arms.

“...I-it costs too much, a-a-and I b-barely have t-to use this one.”

Rick narrowed his eyes and reached into his coat for something. Morty eyed his motions and watched as he pulled out a hip-flask. Rick drank from it and wiped his face off with his sleeve. “Well that’s—URP—gon-gonna change reaaal soon, M-Morty.”

Confused, Morty said, “W-why’s that?”

Rick smiled that snarl-like smile again. “Because, tomorrow, Morty, y-y-you’re gonna travel the multiverse with me.”

Morty looked at Rick with shock in his eyes. _Me?_ Morty thought,  _Morty Smith? Traveling the universe—no, _multiverse? 

“I-I-I am?”

Rick nodded and unexpectedly lunged towards Morty. The boy flinched, but Rick only wrapped a long arm around Morty’s shoulders. “Y-y-you’re gonna, you’re gonna be my sidekick, M—OURGH—ty. It’ll be just us, Morty, Ri-Rick and Morty!” Rick raved to Morty, raising his other arm that wasn’t wrapped around Morty to wave it around. “Th-think about it, Morty! Just you and me, us flying around in the cold and uncaring abyss of space! And there could b-be a Tv show, Morty! With a h-hundred—hundred episodes!”

“A-aw jeez, Rick, a-are you sure that I s-should c-come with you tomorrow?” Morty asked. He was wringing his hands nervously. He _liked_ the prospect of actually doing something other than sitting cooped up in his room all day, doing nothing all day but sleeping, so he was almost scared that Rick would say that he was joking.

However, Rick looked at Morty as if he’d grown another head. “W-who else would join m-me, Morty? Summer? Your mom? Sure as hell not your dumbass of a dad!”

“I-I...s-so you r-really mean that I c-can come on an a-adventure with you?” Morty asked. He was almost embarrassed to admit that his voice was shaking.

Rick stood up, unhooking his arm from Morty’s shoulders. “M-Morty, am I going to have to repeat this a hundred times? You’re going to come with me on an adventure all a-across the galaxy whether you like it or not.”

Morty smiled up at Rick. “O-okay,” Morty said with a smile that made his eyes crinkle. Morty could do that.

_ Rick and Morty, _ Morty thought to himself. It had a nice ring to it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> since this is taking place in the year before s1 (what with beth’s comment in episode 10 about it being a year since rick came back) so everyone is a year younger! i’m only saying this because i plan to say that morty is 13 in this and i don’t want anyone to be getting confused.
> 
> thank you for reading and i love you all!


	3. a day in the hills

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rick and Morty go on an adventure.

Rick sat at the dining table, eating his breakfast the next morning. The sun was rising, casting the room in hues of oranges, yellows, and deep blues. 

Rick was sitting at the head of the table again, Morty sitting to his left and Beth sitting to his right. Summer sat texting on her phone, and Jerry was not in the room currently.

It was peaceful, unusual for Rick since he brought chaos everywhere he went.

Breaking the peace suddenly, Jerry walked into the room, having just taken a shower, and walked over to the only unoccupied seat left.

“Morning, everyone!” Jerry said cheerfully, making sure to completely avoid eye contact with Rick. 

_Fine by me,_ Rick thought in amusement.

The tables response varied; Beth murmured a ‘good morning’ back tiredly, Morty said ‘good morning’ as well but tried to sound earnest for his dad, and Rick and Summer didn’t respond at all.

Apparently, that was the typical response because Jerry began to dig into his plate of eggs and bacon.

It still surprised Rick to no end that Jerry had gotten a  _job_ in this reality. Sure, Rick knew that it would take more than the salary given to a horse surgeon to pay for all of Morty’s medical expenses on top of everything else, but Rick had expected Beth to just find a different job. The fact that Jerry had finally  _grown a pair_ in  this reality shocked Rick beyond his wits.

“So, what will everyone be doing today?” Jerry asked, swallowing his bite. It was an agonizing form of small talk, Rick observed, but Summer shrugged and opened her mouth to respond.

“I dunno, but Frank Palicky said on Instagram that he’s going to the movies, so I might see what he’s up to,” Summer said with a blush. Rick could see Morty frown off to the side. Obviously, Morty didn’t quite approve of Frank.

“That’s nice, honey,” Beth said. “I’m supposed to be giving a surgery on a racing horse today, real serious,” She said, turning to Jerry.

“W-well, uh, R-R-Rick and I a-are g-going somewhere today,” Morty piped up. He looked anxious and he was wringing his hands together, almost nervous about his families’ reply.

The table went quiet for a second as the news was digested until Jerry slapped a hand on the table. “ _No._ Absolutely not. Nope, nope, nope,” Jerry said.

Morty sighed, looking disappointed.

“Jerry!” Beth exclaimed.

“ _What?!_ Your father is not taking our son anywhere, Beth! You know him, you know how dangerous he is! He’s a wanted criminal to the inter-spacial-whatever-the-hell government!” Jerry fought back.

Rick silently watched the situation unfold with narrowed eyes.

“I-I-I—Dad—aw jeez—” Morty tried cutting in, but nothing he said was heard by the arguing couple.

“My father isn’t  _dangerous_ _,_ he’s not going to be leaving Morty in space! For all we know, the inter galactic  government could be corrupt!” Beth shot back.

Jerry’s face went red as a vein stood out on his forehead. Jerry’s panting filled the silence until he opened his mouth, and nearly as soon as Jerry had done so, Rick knew exactly what would be spouted from the man.

“Okay,  _fine_ _,_ but do you think Morty could _handle_ going out with Rick?! He can barely  _walk_ for Christ’s sake!!!” Jerry shouted.

The room had gone silent with Jerry’s words and everyone’s eyes had shifted to Morty to revel in his reaction. A look of hurt had flashed across Morty’s face as an intake of breath was heard from him.

“...Morty—” Jerry said, grasping at straws.

“Jerry, shut your m-mouth for once in your goddamned life,” Rick growled, and to his slight surprise, Jerry did as Rick had told him.

Rick turned to face Morty. “Now, damn it, Morty, y-y-you’re coming on an a-adventure with me, no matter what you can or can’t do.”

A small smile peeked at Morty’s lips and Rick nodded. The scientist glanced at Morty’s plate which had a few remaining strips of bacon and roughly three forkfuls of eggs left. “N-n-now eat up, you’ll—URP—need it.”

* * *

Rick and Morty left the table as soon as Morty had finished his breakfast, Rick getting behind Morty’s wheelchair and wheeling him, once again, into the garage. The table’s conversation after Jerry’s outburst had been awkward and tense, so Morty was happy to leave the table. After all, once Morty left the room, the occurrence would never be spoken of again—but Morty will have to see if his dad is nicer than usual to him later that night.

“S-so here—here we are, Morty,” Rick said. He walked past Morty’s now parked wheelchair, leaning against the counter and picking up what looked to be a gun, but it had a glass cylindrical dome with green lighting sitting atop of the gun. “We’re gonna—we gotta go and harvest and deliver some crystals, Morty. It’ll be—it’ll be an e-experience, Morty.”

Morty nervously laughed. “Uh, c-crystals?” He asked hesitantly.

Rick rolled his eyes. “Yes,  _crystals_ _,_ Morty.”

Morty was beginning to sweat nervously. Crystals? Surely he was just misunderstanding Rick because he’d had an entirely different idea of what they would be doing. “I-I just...Crystals? Am I—am I m-misunderstanding s-something, or...?”

Rick huffed and bent down to be at Morty’s eye level. He pinched his temples in aggravation. “What did you  _think_ we were doing, Morty?”

Morty squirmed in his chair. He was starting to think his initial assumption about his grandpa was very wrong. “I thought w-we were going t-t-to...  _Walmart?_ ”

Rick stared at Morty for an indecipherable amount of time before he burst out laughing. Rick stood up to his own height and threw his head back. “W-W-Walmart?! Hah!” Rick exclaimed through his hilarity. “That h-has to be the s- _stupidest_ t-thing—“

Morty’s shoulders were tensed as he watched his grandfather. He felt dumb for thinking they were going to Walmart but he knew he was being irrational. It wasn’t like Rick had given him any  _clues_ to what they were doing. Still, his cheeks had become heated up, and he knew that his face was redder than a cherry.

“Aw man, Rick, i-it’s—it’s not like y-you said a-a-anything t-to make me think otherwise! Y-y-you j-just said t-that we’re going on an adventure.”

Rick snorted. “Wh-what—EUGH—fuckin’ part of  _adventure_ do you hear in Walmart?”

Morty groaned. “I-I dunno, I just—I just thought that y-you thought r-running errands c-could be called adventures.”

Rick shook his head. He still wore a smirk but it had been significantly reduced as if there had never been laughter spouting from Rick in the first place. “N-no, Morty, we’re gonna be harvesting some crystals. Way cooler than going to  fucking _Walmart._ ”

Morty felt slightly uncomfortable. “Jeez, are you e-ever going t-to get o-over that?”

“No.”

Morty sighed.

“Now, c’mon Morty, we’ve gotta get to—UUP—planet Nibirus and we don’t have much time,” Rick said as he gripped Morty’s wheelchair handles again. He lifted up his gun of sorts and fired it against the wall.

“What the hell?!” Morty exclaimed, flinching as a beam of luminescent green stuff shot out from the device. He expected it to tear a hole through the wall, but instead, a whirlpool of green was opened up.

“H-holy shit, w-what is that, Rick?!” Morty questioned. He looked back to face Rick who was grinning down at him.

“This, Morty, is one of my best inventions,” Rick bragged. “It’s, it’s called a portal gun, and I just made a portal.”

Morty raised an eyebrow. “A-and what’s that g-green stuff?”

“Portal fluid,” Rick responded.

Morty stared up at the gadget in wonder. “So are th-the portals like what the Mrs. W’s do in A W-Wrinkle In Time?”

Rick scoffed, stuffing his portal gun away. He began to wheel Morty towards the portal as he answered him. “ No,  _Morty,_ this is real life. That’s—that book’s fictional. ‘S way off, by the way.”

“Oh.”

Morty stiffened as he and Rick walked through the portal, unaware of what Morty would see on the other side—he just hoped that Rick wasn’t bullshitting him and would wheel Morty into the wall.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Morty felt himself exiting the garage and opened his eyes again to an entirely different scene. If Rick’s portal gun being proof that his grandfather was a real scientist wasn’t good enough, the prospect of traveling from one place to another in just one step would’ve convinced Morty.

The planet—Nibirus—was  beautiful. The sky was magenta, the leaves on trees were shades of violet and teal, and the ground was a shimmery golden color.

Rick stepped through the portal as well and noticed Morty’s awe.

“Y-yeah, this—URGH—place’s pretty w-well developed. O-only place left in the galaxy to get Racine Crystals,” Rick said. Morty listened raptly as Rick spoke.

“Wh-what do Racine Crystals d-do?” Morty queried.

“They get you high as _baaaaaalls_ ,” Rick answered.

“R-Rick!”

“Relax, I-I’m not the one who’s gonna get high, M—ORUGH—ty, I-I—remember, I told you that we’ll be delivering them once we harvest them.”

Morty sighed. “W-w-w-who are we harvesting these for?”

Rick waved his hand in nonchalance. “Oh, j-just one of my drinking buddies. D-don’t worry, he’s paying us a shit ton of money.”

Morty supposed he couldn’t make any more rebuttals. “Fine... b-b-but, w-why did you bring me?” Morty asked. Did Rick just feel sorry for Morty? Or would Morty get to actually be useful to Rick?

“Because Morty, I-I need you to be the one to harvest them. Y-you haven’t murdered anyone, r-right?”

“What?!” Morty blurted. “W-w-what d-does murder have t-to do with anything, Rick?!”

“Y-you have to have ‘a-a pure soul’ to harvest Racine Crystals, or whatever the hell it is,” Rick rolled his eyes, making air quotes. “Point is, I can’t do it, so h-have you murdered anyone Morty? This is crucial information for me to know.”

“A-aw jeez, Rick, I-I-I haven’t murdered anyone!” Morty stammered. “I-I-I haven’t even ever held a—a gun!”

“Good, so you’ll do just fine,” Rick replied.

“Gosh Rick... just, why can’t you do this?”

Rick groaned. “Haven’t you been—OUPP—listening, Morty? Y-you can’t touch the crystals if you’ve killed someone before, it petrifies you, turns you to stone.”

Suddenly, recognition pooled in Morty’s gut. “Holy shit—you’ve killed a person?!” Morty exclaimed.

“People,” Rick corrected.

Morty practically felt his heart beating out of his chest. His hands gripped the armrests on his wheelchair, turning his knuckles white. His grandfather was a  serial killer.  _ Holy shiiiit . _

Rick paid Morty’s panic no mind. “N-now, c’mon, we’ve gotta get to the plains, that’s where the crystals are.”

Rick began his descent and steered Morty in the right direction. Morty attempted to calm himself as he was stopped in front of a rocky wall with glimmering shards of ruby-like crystals jutting out of it.

“A-alright, Morty, here it is,” Rick said, stepping away to look down at Morty.

“Uh, o-okay,” Morty said. He scratched at the back of his neck. “How do I-I harvest th-them?”

Rick reached into his lab coat and pulled out a metal scooper.

“You use this, Morty.” Rick threw the item towards Morty and the boy caught it, holding it against his chest.

“...How?”

“Jesus, Morty, just—I dunno, improvise! Y-you’ll learn.”

Morty bit his lip. The thought of ‘improvising’ with a crystal that had the potential to kill you if you weren’t pure enough was daunting, but Morty complied.

It took a few tries to learn how he should do it, but Morty had finally managed to scoop a singular crystal from out of its rocky cocoon.

“I-I did it, Rick!” Morty said happily, holding the lone Racine Crystal up for Rick to see. 

Rick nodded shortly but a small grin slid across his face. “Good job, Morty. N-now just get...ten or so more.”

Morty bit his lip as he thought of the number. It’d taken him almost seven minutes to free the first crystal, how long would it take to get  ten  more? However, with a hardened look of determination, Morty went at it, poking and prodding the remaining crystals.

Morty furrowed his brow, plucking every crystal that wiggled inside of its rocky confines.  Eventually, he’d gotten way more than ten, doubling it.  He showed off the product of his hard work to his grandfather, causing Rick to smile, slightly maliciously, but it was a smile.

“N-nice job, Morty, I’m—I’m glad you didn’t, y’know, fuck up. Most Mortys would’ve found some fuckin’ way to cut themselves or somethin’, but—but you didn’t,” Rick said with a hint of pride coating his words.

Morty cocked his head. “‘Most Mortys’?” Morty repeated. “W-what does that mean, Rick?”

Rick burped and crossed his arms. “I-it means that there are multiple realities, multiple dimensions. Infinite dimensions, actually. Y-y-you just happen to be this dimension’s Morty, and I’m this dimension’s Rick.”

Rick began searching through his lab coat for something as Morty digested the information.

“S-so... Every dimension h-has you and—and me in i-it, right?” Morty reflected, looking to his grandpa so he can be confirmed.

“Wellll, not exactly,” Rick said. He pulled out a pouch of some type and threw the sack at Morty. “Put the crystals in there.”

“B-but I w-wanna learn about t-the dimensions!” Morty protested.

Rick sighed. “Y-you can be doing that w-while I tell you.”

“Oh. Okay.”

So as Morty scooped up the crystals from his lap and into the bag, Rick launched into an explanation.

“S-so, Morty, to answer your question, not every dimension has—has a Rick, and if every dimension doesn’t have a Rick, then that means that there’s n-no Morty. T-then there are also dimensions where I do e-exist but your parents either got an abortion for Summer and t-therefore didn’t marry  or they just n-never got together at all.”

“A-aw, gosh, that—that kinda sucks,” Morty said as he stashed the last of the crystals in the sack.

“N-not re—UEUGH—ally. Most Ricks can j-just get assigned Rickless Mortys in the Citadel. T-they’re hard to come by since most Ricks haven’t m-met their Mortys yet, but they’re out there.”

“T-the Citadel?” Morty asked. He handed the pack over to his grandpa and Rick shrugged the carrier over his shoulder. “What’s that?”

Rick rolled his eyes. “I-it’s a secret headquarter for the council of Ricks. S-sack of bullshit if you ask me.”

“Oh—uh, w-why’s that?” Morty inquired.

“I—I’ve got a lot of enemies, Morty, and—and so do all the other Ricks. So thousands of Ricks decided to m-make a place for all Ricks to hide out and stay concealed from outsiders. It wouldn’t have b-been that bad if they hadn’t made a fucking government out of it!” Rick bared his teeth, gritting out the words like they were poison.

“Oh,” Morty said, nodding as if he understood; he understood the multiple dimensions part—he’d actually believed in the theory prior to it being confirmed by Rick—but it was the government part that wasn’t completely understood by Morty. Nonetheless, he just frowned sympathetically and let Rick walk behind his wheelchair and grasp the handles.

“Anyways M-Morty, we’re gonna b-be going to a lil’ planet called Vasteevor,” Rick said, firing off a portal and walking towards it.

“W-why’s that, Rick?”

Rick scoffed. “G-god, how dense are you, Morty? Vasteevor is where my drinking buddy lives, idiot.”

Morty winced at the blows towards his intelligence. “O-oh. Sorry.”

An audible exhale was heard behind Morty as Rick rolled Morty into the portal, only a stride behind himself.

Morty looked around to observe his surroundings and saw that he was facing a fairly large mansion.

“J-jeez, Rick, w-w-who the hell is your drinking buddy?” Morty asked, turning around and peering upwards to look at Rick.

Rick had a smug look on his face. “Nice, huh Morty? He’s a pretty well-known mob boss on this planet, pretty powerful. So m-make sure not to do anything stupid while we’re in there. He’s  probably  not going to kill you since we’re dealing him his drugs, but he could amputate one of your limbs.”

“Oh man,” Morty whimpered, biting his lip. His legs may be useless for the most part, but he still didn’t want a  stump.

They were both quiet as Rick thrust Morty towards a gate. They stopped as Rick inputted something into a nearby keypad, and immediately after that, the gate was opened. Rick continued to wheel Morty towards the mansion and suddenly halted as they approached it.

“...Shit,” Rick breathed.

There was what seemed like fifty stairs leading up to a grand looking front entrance, something that didn’t bode well for the wheelchair-ridden Morty.

“I...I can just s-stay out here, Rick,” Morty said, fidgeting with his hands. He didn’t  want to stay outside alone in a totally unfamiliar place, but he didn’t want to be a burden.

“No, no—it’s dangerous out here, Morty, not safe—I’m gonna have to get you up there,” Rick stated.

Morty continued to nibble at his lip until an idea sprung into his head. “Rick, w-what about your portal gun?”

Rick shook his head, pulling out the object. “Not gonna work. I only have enough charge left for one more portal—and unless you wanna be stranded here, Morty, we have to save up the energy.” Rick pocketed the device and rolled up his sleeves. “I’ll just carry you, Morty.”

Morty’s face blushed, conjuring up the image of being carried. It was embarrassing, certainly, but Morty knew it was the only way that it was going to be done. “F-fine...” Morty acquiesced.

Rick grunted in reply and lifted Morty up. He sat Morty down on a nearby stair and Morty watched as Rick picked up his wheelchair.

It took a surprisingly short time for the elder to carry the wheelchair up the stairs and he was back at Morty’s side in a mere minute.

“H-here, Morty,” Rick said as he picked Morty up by his armpits. Morty squeaked as he was easily lifted up into Rick’s arms. Morty had known he was skinny, probably more than he should be due to his condition, but this was absurd. 

Apparently, Rick thought so too, as the blue-haired man widened his eyes. “J-Jesus, Morty! Y-you’re lighter than six stones!”

“Heh, y-yeah...” Morty mumbled, not making eye contact. His weight, though something that didn’t typically bother him, made him embarrassed when it was brought up.

Rick seemed to sense that, however, and brought up a different topic. “Uhh... S-so what do you think we should spend our money on after this?”

Morty shrugged, thankful for the change of topic. “I-I don’t really k-know. Maybe a-an arcade, or something? I-I haven’t been to one in forever, b-but they seem fun.”

Rick’s eyes lit up. “Holy shit, you don’t know about Blips and Chitz!”

“Blips and Chitz?” Morty questioned. It sounded completely fictional, but then again, so had everything else Rick had shown or told him about so far.

“Yeah, Morty! Blips and Chitz! I-I-It’s the best arcade in the multiverse! T-they have a game called Roy, l-let me tell you, it’s a good—a good game,” Rick raved. 

Morty smiled. “Well, m-maybe we should go there a-after this.”

“Duh,” Rick said. 

They had made it to the top, finally, and Morty was placed down into his wheelchair. His body was slightly colder without Rick’s grip on him, but he didn’t allow himself to mourn the loss as Rick pushed him through the front door.

The mansion looked  better  than it had on the outside—and that was saying something. There were seemingly limitless decals littering the walls and a massive chandelier hung down from the high, domed ceiling. There were two long staircases (Morty sighed; damn this place’s infatuation with stairs!) leading up to the second and third floors. 

“Ah, Mr. Sanchez!” A low yet chirpy voice called from Morty’s right. Morty twisted his head to look at the voice’s owner and his eyebrows shot up his forehead.

The figure appeared humanoid, but he had magenta and peach skin, three eyes, and a beak for a mouth. He was chubby and was wearing a tux. To put it simply, he was unlike any alien Morty had ever seen.

“Taln, good to—URP—good to see you,” Rick said curtly.

“Of course, of course, good to see you as well!” The alien—Taln—said. “Now, shall I go fetch Xegerix?”

“P-please,” Rick said. He looked like saying the word was causing him slight pain, but it was clear to Morty that Rick had to be polite here.

Taln nodded and went upstairs to go and fetch his boss. Rick groaned and rubbed his face tiredly as Taln left the room. 

“Jesus, I’ve forgotten how draining it is to be  nice  here,” Rick said miserably. 

Morty giggled slightly as he watched his grandfather collapse in on himself. The man looked entirely drained.

Taln soon returned with another creature—one that looked much like Taln.

“Rick,” the alien said. Morty assumed that this was the mob boss, Xegerix—he carried an air of confidence that screamed ‘intimidation’ to Morty. He also gave off a startling air of elegance.

Xegerix held out a big hand to Rick, and Rick grabbed hold of it, shaking it firmly. “Xegerix. It’s been—been a while.”

“Indeed.”

There was a pause as Xegerix glanced towards Morty.

“Now, who’s this?” Xegerix said, peering around Rick to examine Morty.

“My grandson,” Rick said gruffly. “His name’s Morty.”

“Hello, Morty,” Xegerix said.

Morty felt his face become heated up. “H-h-hello.”

Xegerix observed him for a second more before turning back to Rick. “Let me lead you two to my office.”

Xegerix moved towards the stairs and Rick cleared his throat. Xegerix peered over his shoulder to look back at his guests. “What’s the matter?” The alien asked.

“Y-yeah, well, about going to your office—Morty can’t walk, he—he has to use a wheelchair to move.”

Xegerix blinked. “And?”

Rick huffed and pinched his temples. “ _And_ stairs are really fuckin’ hard t-to navigate with a wheelchair.”

Xegerix’s mouth (beak?) formed into an ‘o’. “I apologize. Would you prefer we situate our deal in the den?”

Rick’s tense shoulders eased. “S-sure,” Rick said.

So off the three of them went, traveling down the spiraling hallways to reach a room that Morty could only describe as cozy—rows of bookshelves covered the walls, plenty of cushiony couches and chairs filled the room, and a huge lit fireplace was right in the center of the wall.

Xegerix motioned for Rick to enter the room before him, so Rick did, pushing Morty along. Rick sat down at the end of a couch and Morty was placed right next to said couch.

Xegerix sat down in an armchair right across from Rick. “So, Rick,” Xegerix began. “Do you have the crystals?”

Rick pointed to the satchel that was still slung around his neck. “Right in here.”

Xegerix made a low trilling sound and reached outwards. The pupils in his three eyes were suddenly dilated as he grabbed for the bag. Morty was slightly taken aback by the sight of what had appeared to be a monotonous creature go crazy over something.

Rick shook his head and shrugged the bag off of him. “Eager, aren’t you?”

Xegerix didn’t respond, opening the bag and breathing the smell in heavily. His pupils returned to normal as the ‘aroma’ from the crystals becalmed him. “Ah, uh, yes, my apologies.”

Rick snickered, waving his hand in denial. “Nah, don’t even trip, dawg. ‘S fine, I understand.”

Xegerix nodded and cleared his throat. He then emptied the bag of crystals on his lap and began to count them. His three eyes went wide as he finished.

“You are aware that you gave me ten extra crystals, correct?”

Rick pointed over to Morty, who squirmed at the unwanted attention. “Y-you can thank him. He’s the one who harvested ‘em.”

Xegerix made another humming sound, only this time, it was more pitched in volume, an octave or two higher.

Morty, who had been tilting his head in slight confusion, saw Rick lean towards him. “He means ‘thank you’,” Rick whispered.

“Oh,” Morty said dumbly. He faced Xegerix. “Y-y-you’re welcome.”

Rick pulled out his flask and drank from it. When he put it away, Rick asked, “So what’ll our payment be?”

“I believe that, since you two gave me an additional ten Racine Crystals, I will pay you thirteen thousand flurbos.” Xegerix scooped up the maroon crystals in his hands and set them on a nearby side table.

Morty watched as Rick’s jaw dropped. Though Morty knew nothing about alien currencies—he hardly knew anything about  Earth’s  currencies other than the US’s—but if his grandfather was shocked, he knew that it was a big deal.

“I— _holy shit_ , ” Rick said, for lack of anything else to say. He turned towards Morty and grabbed the boy by his shoulders. “M-Morty, do you know what this _means?_ ” Rick asked.

Morty’s eyes widened as he shook his head. “Uhhh, n-no?”

Rick’s face broke out in a grin. “We’re gonna be at Blips and Chitz all fuckin’  _dayyyy_!”


	4. let traditions live on

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rick and Morty start new traditions.

The two boys spent the rest of the day at Blips and Chitz, only returning when it was 6:30 P.M. on Earth.

Morty’s shoulders (which had previously been lax until he got in the portal) tensed as he entered the garage. He was now back home, back to his normal, draining, and  sad  life. 

“Come—URP—on, Morty, dinner’s probably almost ready,” Rick said, tapping Morty on the shoulder.

Morty hung his head and sighed. He gripped his armrests dejectedly as Rick moved him out of the garage and into the kitchen.

“Oh, hey you two,” Beth said, hearing the garage door opening and seeing her son and father coming out. “Dinner should be ready at 7.”

“T-thanks Mom,” Morty said, perking up a bit at the prospect of food.

“Y-yeah, thank you, Beth,” Rick said. He proceeded to move Morty once more. Morty looked into the living room to see Summer sitting on the couch doing homework and Jerry playing his balloon popping game on his iPad as he sat in his recliner.

“Uh, c-can you bring me over t-to the living room?” Morty asked over his shoulder.

Rick grunted but complied, moving towards the aforementioned room.

He stopped Morty by the arm of the couch, the scientist moving to sit closest to Morty.

Summer looked up from her work. “Hey Morty, grandpa Rick.”

“H-hi,” Morty responded. He glanced towards the Tv to see it was playing that  _The Days and Nights of Mrs. Pancakes_ show again. Morty rolled his eyes, knowing it was his sister who’d been watching it and shifted in his wheelchair.

It’d been uncomfortable sitting in it all day, something he hadn’t had to do ever since he started online schooling. What Morty wouldn’t  do  to sit down on the couch—but he’d asked so much of Rick today already and Morty didn’t want to seem needy.

Morty shifted again and Rick caught sight of the movement. Rick pursed his lips and watched Morty with narrowed eyes. Morty sighed and sat back in his chair. He still wasn’t comfortable, far from it, but Rick seemed annoyed with his constant moving, so Morty let it rest. It would only be a few more minutes before dinner would be ready, Morty rationalized, and then Summer would take him upstairs and help him to bed, just like they always did.

Just as Morty had accepted his situation, Rick opened his mouth. “W-what’s up?”

Morty flushed. Look at what he’d done! He’d distracted Rick! Feeling guilty, Morty muttered, “I-I’m just uncomfortable, but it’s o-okay.”

Rick looked away and furrowed his unibrow. He turned back to Morty after a minute and asked, “Want me to...Help you on the couch?”

Morty raised his eyebrows. “O-oh, no, i-it’s fine Rick, y-you don’t have to, I don’t wanna be a burden—“

Rick huffed and stood up. “Y-you aren’t burdening me by wanting to sit on the couch, Morty. If you w—URP—ere, I wouldn’t have asked you.”

Morty’s face reddened even more as he was helped out of his wheelchair. It was, like all things concerning Rick, rougher than usual, but not excessively so.

Morty sighed in contentment as he relaxed into the couch, pleased to be sitting on a surface that wasn’t his wheelchair.

Rick sat down to his left and wore the same contented look Morty felt. Summer sat doing her homework, sparing Jerry, Rick, and Morty a glance here and there, and Jerry sat playing his dumb game.

It was... nice.

* * *

Morty woke up the next day to unfiltered light streaming in through his window. The whirring sound emitting from his oxygen concentrator was hypnotic and the steady flow of air entering Morty’s nostrils was calming, but they only did so much after ten minutes of sitting there.

Morty sighed and turned his head to face his alarm clock. 

6:03 A.M.

A groan escaped him. Great. So he’d have to wait even  longer  to get out of bed.

Morty huffed and crossed his arms. It sucked being dependent.

Suddenly, an idea sparked in his head. He scanned his surroundings, looking for his laptop. He quickly found it sitting atop his dresser.

_Perfect_ ,  Morty thought to himself, an easy grin replacing his sullen look. With his laptop being only three or four steps away, he’d definitely be capable of reaching it!

Pushing himself up and out of bed with determination, Morty applied pressure to his feet and stood up. Instantly, he became wobbly and reached out to his nightstand in alarm. Though his posture was definitely not the best, lackluster at best, Morty was upright  by _himself_ , so that was definitely considered a win, right?

“C-c’mon, j-just—just a few more steps,” Morty eased, talking himself into it.

He took a step, still gripping the surface of the table, and then he took another.

However, Morty had severely underestimated the number of steps and stamina it would take for him to get from his bed to his dresser and the boy soon fell tired.

Finally, his knees gave out and Morty toppled to the floor in a heap. Morty let out a yelp and squeezed his eyes shut, holding his arms out in front of his face to protect himself.

After a moment, Morty cracked an eyelid open. He almost didn’t want to believe it, didn’t want to be sat on the floor, but, of course, he was.

“...Shit.”

This would take a while.

* * *

Rick had been sleeping (for the first time since his arrival at his daughter’s house) in his guest room when a loud  _crash_ woke him up.

Rick bolted upright in his bed, his eyes automatically snapping open. 

“What the...” Rick muttered, trailing off. He scratched at his stubble—he’d have to remember to shave today—and peered upwards.

The sound had seemed to come directly above him, so it had to have been either Summer or Morty since their bedrooms are above Rick’s.

Typically, Rick wouldn’t investigate such things, but he had been doing things out of his usual lately;  _an example would be being nice to my dumbass Morty_ , a part of Rick’s brain sneered.

So Rick shuffled out of his bed and slipped his lab coat on over his clothes that he’d slept in. He ventured out of his room, into the hallway, and onto the flight of stairs.

He stopped outside of Summer’s room. Rick didn’t care about invading a male’s privacy—it was nothing that he hadn’t seen before. But entering your granddaughter’s room seemed different and it  _was_ different. 

Shaking himself out of it, Rick cracked her door open, peering into the room. Everything looked normal.

Frowning to himself, Rick closed the door and stepped away. That would mean the noise had come from Morty’s room.

“W-what the hell is he doing?” Rick asked himself as he moved to Morty’s door.

Without the hesitation he’d had as he stood in front of Summer’s door, Rick abruptly opened the door.

The first thing his eyes caught sight of was the kid’s crumpled form laid on the floor.

“What the fuck?” Rick said to no one in particular.

Upon hearing Rick, Morty turned his head, a shy smile on his face. “Oh uh... h-hey Rick.”

Rick walked over to help his grandson up from his position on the floor. “Hey? That’s all you have to say to me? W-what the hell were you doing on the floor?!”

Morty looked sheepish. “Uhhh... I wanted m-my laptop.”

Rick rolled his eyes and groaned. Of course. “Why, so you can masturbate?”

Morty’s eyes widened to the size of saucers. “Wh-what?! N-no!” Morty heatedly denied, his cheeks looking positively inflamed.

“D-don’t deny it, Morty, i-i-it’s fine, no judgment. Unless it was hentai o-or tentacle porn. In that case,  _sliiiight_ judgment on my part.” Rick smirked down at his grandson as he helped the boy sit on his bed. Morty averted his eyes and stared down at his lap, shaking his head vehemently.

“N-no, I’m telling the truth! I-I-I was just tr-trying to get my laptop just—just for the sake of g-getting it,” Morty admitted. “To have—to have a little freedom, y’know?”

Rick tilted his head and crossed his arms. “Not gonna lie to you on this one Morty, but I have no fuckin’ idea what you’re talking about.”

Morty sighed. The teenager leaned into his pillows with a look of defeat. “It’s—it’s fine, Rick.”

Rick scratched at his chin in thought. “Would you wanna go downstairs, watch some—some Tv? I’m sure it’s b-boring as hell up here,” Rick offered.

Morty lightened up. “Really?”

Rick shrugged. “S-sure, better than boring yourself to an early death up here.”

Morty smiled a smile so bright that it reminded Rick of the sun’s UV rays. “Oh geez, Rick, th...t-thanks!”

Rick waved the sentiment aside. “‘S no problem, y-you deserve it for gettin’ me some major cash yesterday.”

Morty smiled again and took his nasal cannula off, setting it down on his bedside table. He then allowed Rick to assist him out of his bed.

They made their departure down the stairs and, ignoring the folded up wheelchair by the front door, entered the living room. The two males sat down, turned on the Tv, and thus marked the beginning of their daily ritual.

* * *

Rick woke up later than usual one morning. The sun was already shining brightly in the sky when his eyes had fluttered open. Rick groaned and rolled out of his cot. The elderly man stretched out his back, wincing every time he heard pops issuing from his creaky bones.

“Ugh,” Rick groaned to himself. He observed himself in his room’s small mirror. His hair, though always crazy, was ruffled more than usual and Rick had slept in his clothes again. Fortunately, his clothes hadn’t been stained too badly or noticeably, so he wore the clothes out of his room. 

As he entered the living room, he was surprised to see Morty sitting on the couch with his laptop, wearing his cannula that was hooked up to his portable oxygen machine. Ruffles (or whatever the hell the damn dog’s name was) sat next to Morty, pressed up against the boy’s thigh. Morty looked up from his computer as he sensed movement coming from the hallway that Rick was emerging from.

“Oh, h-hi, Rick,” Morty said as a greeting and turned back to his electronic. Rick scoffed—whatever the hell the kid was doing on it sure was keeping his attention.

“Hey, M—ORGH—ty. What—whatcha up to?” Rick asked as he sat down in his usual spot—to Morty’s left and pressed up against the couch’s armrest. He peered over the teen’s shoulder and saw a screen of math problems looking back at him. “W-whoa, kid, what the—are you doing a daily dose of math or somethin’?”

Morty gave a wheezy sort of laugh. “N-no, uh, nothing—nothing like that. This what I do education w-wise since I—well, y-y’know, I can’t really go to school,” Morty explained. Rick had figured as much, but the idea of his Morty seemingly  _willing_ to do schoolwork was still stunning.

“Wh-what ever happened to thinking school was dumb,  _Morty_?” Rick asked pointedly. He despised school, and online school seemed almost  _worse_ , especially when Morty could learn just as much—if not more—from Rick himself.

“Well—well I dunno, Rick, I-I, it gets kind of boring here without—without school. It’s weird,” Morty shrugged. “A-a-and I wanna get a college degree, too.”

“ _Boring_?!” Rick exclaimed. “I—you mean to tell me that it’s  boring  here?! What—what the hell do we do, huh? Fuckin’ knit blankets? Th-that  stuff is boring, Morty, not what we do!”

“I—geez, Rick! I-I-I never said what  we  do is b-boring!” Morty protested. “All I-I m-meant was that once our adventures are done it—it gets a little...well, repetitive.”

“...Oh,” Rick said, taking out his flask.

Morty sighed and shook his head. He turned back to his math problems and Rick turned on the Tv. But he gave up on it after a minute and watched Morty, informing the boy when he messed up a formula or miscalculated something. Every time he did so, he was paid back in a bright smile that, though Rick didn’t want to admit, could light up New York City after dark.

When he was done with his lesson, he turned to Rick with a dopey look on his face. “T-thank you, Rick,” Morty beamed.

Rick waved his hand in denial and drank from his flask, turning back to the Tv. He could still feel Morty’s thankful gaze on him but he didn’t acknowledge it.

“Soooo, where’s everyone else?” Rick inquired.

“W-work and school.”

“What?!” Rick jumped up from his spot, causing both Morty and his dog to flinch from the outburst. “I-I-I really slept in for that long?!”

“I mean, y-yeah? Y-you’ve been up for four days straight working on something in the g-garage.” Morty rubbed the back of his neck. “Gotta be honest, I’m kinda s-surprised that you didn’t sleep in  _longer_. I-i-i-it’s only 10:30.”

Rick groaned and rubbed his face. “Jesus, is that why I feel like Gloferian shit?”

“I guess?”

Rick shook his head. “D-did we have any leftovers, Morty? I-I feel like I could commit acts of cannibalism—even you and your bony ass is starting to look good.”

Morty rolled his eyes and jerked his hand towards the kitchen. “M-Mom left some pancakes out for you. She—she made sure to keep the syrup a-a-away from it s-since you h-hate when your pancakes get all pasty.”

“Fuckin’ good, glad to know that your father hasn’t corrupted her taste too bad,” Rick said, causing Morty to roll his eyes once again.

He went into the kitchen to retrieve his breakfast that was sitting on the counter. Rick then returned from the kitchen and sat back down in his spot.

Morty, while Rick had been gone, had changed the channel from whatever had been on to a cartoon,  Garfield by the looks of it.

Rick ate his meal in silence, quietly observing the Tv. It was too tame for Rick’s taste, but Morty seemed happy enough, so he let it pass. He was apparently in a generous mood that day since he offered a few bites of his syrup coated deliciousness to Morty.

Rick belched as he finished the meal. Garfield had just delivered one of his famous “I hate Mondays,” line, or whatever. The scientist pat his stomach contently and turned to face Morty.

“S-so, kid, when’s your birthday? Big ol’ fourteen?” Rick asked. He had a birthday present in mind for the kid, but it took a few months of preparation which was why he was asking.

“Oh, it’s—it’s in J-July. July 12th,” Morty specified. “Uh... W-w-why’re you asking?” 

Rick rolled his eyes in ire. Rick silently cursed the kid and his insufferable questions; it would surely be the death of him someday. “Because,  Morty, I—I’m trying to figure out when I should o-order a sack of dry, crusty Yipted turds. D-do, do you know what Yipted turds are good for, Morty?” Morty shook his head. “Yipted turds are good for absolutely  _nothing_ , Morty. Ex-except for showing your grandson how much of a worthless shit he is.”

Morty winced and began wringing his hands. “Aw jeez, Rick, y-y-y-you’re really t-tearing into me right now. Go—go easy on me.”

Rick scoffed and turned back towards the Tv. “Whatever, Morty.” 

No matter what his indifferent/slightly pissed expression gave off, it really did hurt Rick to see Morty wearing such a wounded look. But it would be made up, Rick justified, when the man gave the boy his gift. It’ll blow any other gift out of the park.

Rick just hoped that, for the time being, Morty could forgive him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi all! i hope you enjoyed reading this chapter! sorry that this week’s update was shorter :(
> 
> also, i’m very sorry, but next week i’ll have to take a week off of updating this story—i have to take some extra shifts all next week so i won’t have any time to write. really hope you all can forgive me!
> 
> edit: ik morty’s wiki says that his birthday is october 5 1999? and that’s dandy, but i just have no idea where that’s ever mentioned so.. his birthday is in july in this lmao


	5. the years are all gone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rick and Summer chapter!
> 
> Morty goes to physical therapy while Rick and Summer go on a mission gone south.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello everyone, it’s good to be back! again, i’m so sorry for the break in updates last week, and it might happen again. i’m not sure. anyways, i liked this chapter much more than the previous one! it was definitely a lot more action based, as opposed to my last chapter. but, i digress. happy reading!

“Alright, Morty, it’s time to go!” The voice of Beth hollered throughout the house.

Morty perked up in his wheelchair and shouted back a reply. “C-coming!”

Rick arched a brow inquisitively. He and Morty had been situated in the garage, Rick at his workbench, fiddling with a new type of gun for his best client, Krombopulos Michael, and Morty had been sitting in his wheelchair, a few feet away from Rick’s station, previously having been watching the scientist work.

“W-w-w-where are you two going?” Rick asked. He took a moment to sip from his flask that had been laying down on the table, among his normal desktop clutter.

“Oh, d-don’t you remember?” Morty stammered, peering up at Rick with curious green eyes. “We—we all talked about it at d-dinner on Wednesday.”

Rick fixed the boy with a hardened stare. “And we’ve talked about how I don’t listen to sh—URPEGH—it at dinner.”

Morty made a face of recognition. “O-oh, right. I mean, I-I still think that—that it’s an asshole move, for you to not listen during dinner, but Mom, Dad, and I a-a-agreed that I should start going to physical therapy.”

Rick suddenly remembered the conversation that Morty spoke of, though only vaguely. “Oh, y-yeah, I remember.”

Morty simply shook his head. He looked as if he wanted to say more, but Beth picked just then to poke her head into the garage. “Come on, Morty, we’re going to be late,” she said.

“O-oh, okay, s-sorry Mom,” Morty replied. Beth ducked back out of the room.

Morty looked back at Rick, almost expectantly, and Rick sighed, sliding out of his seat. “Yeah, yeah, ‘m coming.”

He helped Morty out of the garage, through the house, and over to the front door. There, Beth was waiting as she tapped her foot, checking her phone. Seeing Rick and Morty enter the room, she slid the device into her pants pocket. She walked over and moved behind Morty’s wheelchair, taking Rick’s place. Rick stood back, sticking his hands in his lab coat’s pockets.

“S-so, when will you two be back?” Rick asked, sounding nonchalant.

Beth picked up her purse, scooping her hair from underneath the purse straps and piling it on top of the strap as her purse hung on her shoulder. “Around 6:30. Just in time for me to start making dinner.”

“Jesus, you’ll be there for six hours?!” Rick exclaimed. His unibrow shot up to his hairline and his eyes widened. The kid would be _exhausted_ when he got back home.

Beth shrugged. “Dr. Howard said that it should help.” Rick pursed his lips at the mention of Morty’s neurologist. Dr. Howard, in Rick’s very _correct_ opinion, was a stuck up dick with a whole goddamn _tree_ growing up his ass. It was always ‘ _Dr. Howard said this_ ’, ‘ _Dr. Howard said that_ ’, and whatever the man did to help Morty ceased to do much if anything at all. He was completely misinformed and was being paid by his family for absolutely nothing useful at all.

“Dr. Howard isn’t the smartest man in existence, honey,” Rick sneered.

Shooting him an unamused look, Beth scowled. “I don’t have time for this,” She said and began to roll Morty towards the door, bending over Morty’s head awkwardly to open it.

“Oh, and Dad—“ Beth addressed Rick, “—you’re in charge of Summer.”

Rick shrugged and nonverbally watched Beth. She seemed to realize that the shrug would be the only response and resumed wheeling Morty out the door.

“B-b-bye, Rick,” Morty said with a small smile, turning around to look at Rick.

Rick’s expression softened, ever so slightly, and he returned Morty’s grin with a reluctant smile. “B—URGH—bye, Morty. S-see ya in a few hours, kid.”

After the words came out of Rick’s mouth, Beth closed the door behind her and Rick was left alone in the room. He watched through the front window as Beth wheeled Morty up the wheelchair ramp in her car, finally looking away when the car drove off.

Rick pinched the bridge of his nose. Great. He was alone. For _six hours._

It was a truly wondrous question now: what was a Rick supposed to do without a Morty?

* * *

Summer looked up from her phone as Rick entered the living room, plopping down onto the couch in a pout. He reached into his coat for his flask, almost completely draining the alcohol that was inside of the container as he chugged it.

Summer watched raptly as he did so. When Rick took the flask away from his mouth, she spoke up. “Uh... grandpa Rick?... Are you okay?” She cocked an eyebrow.

Rick grumbled to himself and folded his arms. Nothing was audible besides “Fuckin’ Dr. Howard...”

Summer smirked knowingly. “Pissed that Morty isn’t here? Do you miss him?”

Rick snarled. “N-no! I’m just pissed that he’s going to—to be gone for six hours! There’s a fuckin’ ton of stuff we could’ve done in six hours!” Rick groaned. “I-I have work to do, Summer, this has nothing to do with... _feelings.”_ He spat out the last word like it was acid burning a hole through his tongue.

“...Mhm.” Summer rolled her eyes. “Look, grandpa Rick, why don’t I just help you if you have stuff that needs to be done so badly?”

Rick looked affronted by the idea. “You?! Help me? No,” He said firmly.

“Ugh!” Summer fumed, standing up suddenly. She threw her hands out by her side. “I knew you would say that! Just because I don’t have a dick doesn’t mean that I can’t do what you and Morty do!”

Rick massaged his head as Summer’s fit continued. As time went on (two minutes; Rick counted) Rick grit his teeth. “ _FINE!_ Goddamn, okay, whatever! I give up!” He took his portal gun out, entered some coordinates, and fired off at the wall next to the Tv. “Get in the fucking portal, Summer!”

Summer grinned, her anger disappearing in a split second. “Cool,” she said like she hadn’t been pitching a fit seven seconds ago.

She crossed through the portal smugly. Rick cursed to himself as he entered the portal after her.

The planet they entered had a grayish, maroon-ish sky, and flutters of ash flew about the atmosphere, immediately catching in Rick and Summer’s hair.

“Grandpa Rick, where are we?” Summer asked, mesmerized by the barren land’s effects.

“Just out south of the Hemglofin system. This—UURG—place doesn’t have a name yet, but I like to call it Belly-Lint-Galore. Because, y-y’know, the...the ash.”

Summer turned to Rick with a fierce look of disgust. “Grandpa Rick, _gross!”_

Rick frowned. _Morty would’ve laughed,_ the scientist told himself as Summer began to speak again.

“Why are we even here?” She folded her arms and popped a hip to the side.

“B-bec—AUGH—se, Summer, I need a really rare selection of Sênëntry seeds and this is the only place that I can get them without having to pay a fuckin’ arm and a leg. Here, since there’s no one to stop us, it’s free,” Rick said. He pocketed his portal gun and began to move forward.

Summer followed him. “What do we need the seeds for?”

Rick grunted. Just like her brother, the girl asked _way_ too many questions. “For something,” Rick said, unwilling to share the legitimate answer.

Summer scoffed and turned Rick around to face her. “Again with the sexist bullshit!” Summer yelled. “Just because I don’t have a penis doesn’t mean that I can’t know stuff!”

Rick groaned and pinched his eyebrows as the redhead bitched to Rick. “Look,” He said gruffly, cutting the teenager off, “I wouldn’t’ve told Morty what I need these seeds for, s-so you are being treated exactly the same way I treat everyone else. I-I-I’m not going to treat you like I’m walking on eggshells, okay?”

Rick could see Summer‘s enraged expression calm, but she still glared at Rick furiously. “Whatever.”  However callous she may be, Rick could tell by her body language that she was embarrassed by her outburst. _Good,_ Rick thought, _she should be._

“Okay, now c-come on, this is taking an unnecessary amount of time already just because of your teenage meltdown.”

Summer crossed her arms over her chest and followed Rick as he patrolled further.

Rick led them into a field of graying crops, the colorless plants reaching up  to at least Rick’s waist, the longer ones even going to his chin.

“Grandpa Rick, what are these?” Summer asked. Rick looked over his shoulder to see Summer push a particularly tall stalk from out of her face.

“Do you want the scientific version or the—ERP—Earth version?” Rick asked.

“Earth version.”

“Well, i-i-it’s basically fire weed, Summer,” Rick responded. He instantly saw how Summer’s eyes lit up and he rolled his eyes. “Lemme guess, you wanna get high?”

“Hell yeah,” Summer said with an easy smile, placing a hand on her hip. They’d reached a clearing, Rick observed, and were halfway through the field.

“No,” Rick responded. At Summer’s disbelieving expression, he repeated himself. “I said _no,_ Summer. This is—this is supposed to be a twenty-minute adventure and fire weed has a high that lasts twelve hours. I—I don’t want to have to explain to your mom and dad why their daughter is plastered.”

Summer pouted and clasped her hands together; it was so dramatic that Rick was almost surprised when she didn’t drop to her knees in a kneeling position. “ _Pleeease,_ grandpa Rick?” Summer pleaded. “I don’t have to smoke it today, I can just bring some home and smoke it at a friend’s house. Come on, please?”

Rick covered both his ears with his hands but her whining still cut through those barriers. Jesus motherfucking Christ, the girl’s fussing was worse than Morty! “Fine! Fuckin’ _fine_ you whiny, manipulative bitch!”

Summer smirked and crossed her arms. The look on her face was purely sadistic.

Rick muttered profanities under his breath as he quickly cut the cannabis from its stalk. Summer grabbed for it greedily.

“Tuck it somewhere safe, s-so you don’t lose it, because I know that if you lose it, you’re just gonna cause another scene and force me to come back, and you—you’re givin’ me a migraine enough as it is,” Rick warned. Summer nodded and did as told, shoving the fire weed into her back pocket.

Rick, without comment, sped on forward and heard the telltale sound of shucks shifting as Summer followed after him.

After a few more minutes, Rick and Summer had finally waded their way through the field.

“Where are we going now?” Summer asked, peering around inquisitively. Rick could understand her confusion; the site looked exactly like everywhere else they had been. All except for one little detail.

Rick pointed towards a large, blossoming tree, the only tree for miles on this planet that was blossoming. “There. We’ll be getting t-the Sênëntry seeds from that tree, Summer.”

Summer gaped in awe and Rick grinned. He’d forgotten how wondrous the tree looked the first time you saw it.

“Now, c’mon,” Rick said, lightly shoving the teen.

They walked forward a few feet and stopped at the root of the tree. Rick began going through the motions and started the harvesting process. He looked over his shoulder and back at Summer where she was watching him work.

“Y-you’ll want to pay attention to what I’m doing, Summer, because you’ll be doing this too in just a second.”

Summer shrugged and moved closer to Rick to see him work.

Rick turned back to the tree. He counted the seeds as he unrooted them from the bark of the tree. He frowned; last time he’d been there, there had been way more seeds. Rick shook off the thought but didn’t erase his suspicion—it never hurt to be prepared.

“T-there, Summer. If you paid attention, you should be able to do just fine,” Rick said, fishing another tool out of his lab coat. He handed it to her and refocused on his own section of the tree. They worked in harmony, the scraping sound that emitted from the metal on bark filling the atmosphere.

Once they had all they needed for Rick to be satisfied, Rick began stuffing the seeds into a cloth bag that was designed to make them shrivel faster. It was required for what he was planning, and he might as well kill two birds with one stone.

As he proceeded to fill the bag with handfuls of the seeds, he heard a loud rustling from behind him.

Freezing, Rick observed his surroundings and narrowed his eyes. “Summer,” Rick began slowly, cautiously, “did you hear that?”

Summer looked back at him with a perplexed look. “Hear what—”

Summer was cut off by her own scream as someone swung an arm around her. Rick cursed and leapt to his feet, ignoring the seeds that fell to the ground because of his action. He pulled out a laser gun from the inner recesses of his lab coat and aimed.

He shot a hole through the head of the man holding Summer, and as the man dropped to the ground, Summer rushed back to his side.

“What the hell just happened?!” Summer asked. She crouched behind Rick, afraid, as Rick ran a scan by use of his cybernetic eye. “I thought you said this place was deserted!”

Rick clenched his fists around his ray gun. “Uh, yeah, clearly because I’d thought that it was deserted! But I can’t know everything, _Summer!”_ Rick spat out. He forced himself to turn back to the task at hand, tuning out any further quips that Summer made in response.

He could detect a new storm of aliens coming, so he got out his portal gun and turned back to Summer. He spoke as he set the coordinates in his portal gun. “O-okay, Summer, we’re gonna be getting out of here—”

Rick was cut off by a laser beam grazing his shoulder. _“Fuck!”_ Rick yelled and he accidentally dropped his portal gun. He and Summer watched it fall in practically slow motion, their eyes as wide as saucers. Like Rick knew it would, the device shattered on impact and Rick watched the green portal fluid trickle out of the cracked glass.

_ “... Shit _ _,”_ Rick groaned.

“Grandpa Rick! What are we gonna do?!” Summer shrieked. She was beginning to freak out in a similar manner as her brother and Rick barely managed not to roll his eyes. He searched through his lab coat for another ray gun and he tossed it at the panicking teen.

“Can you man a gun, Summer?” Rick asked as he looked over his shoulder.

Summer nodded and clutched the gun close to her chest. Rick would have actually rolled his eyes that time had it not been for the laser that whizzed by his face, just two inches away from Rick’s nose.

“WOAH— _Holy shit!”_ Rick exclaimed, flinching back. He regathered his composure as quickly as he could and snapped at Summer. “Just get your fucking shit together, Summer! It’s _obvious_ that I need some fucking help!” And with that, Rick turned back to eliminating his targets, slightly relieved when he heard gunfire coming from behind him, indicating that Summer had begun to take fire.

However, it hadn’t been enough, something that Rick hadn’t realized until it was too late and an alien had knocked him and Summer upside the head, rendering both of them useless and unconscious.

* * *

As soon as Rick opened his eyes from unconsciousness, his head felt like it was on fire.

With a moan, Rick rolled over on his side and observed his area. Summer was in a similar state as him, passed out cold on the chilled concrete flooring. The room was dark and damp, and several drops of water were made audible when they fell from the ceiling due to the room’s echoey design.

As Rick sat there, squinting his eyes, a groan issued from Summer as she stirred awake. Her hair was all amiss, strands of it falling into Summer’s face. Summer’s eyelids slowly cracked open, and as soon as she saw where she was, she furrowed her brow.

“Where... am I?” Summer asked to herself.

“Dunno, Summer,” Rick said. He was now sitting up against the rock wall of their cell. “But it probably has something to do with the aliens we were to ‘genial’ towards.”

“Grandpa Rick?” Summer questioned. “What’s going on?”

Rick ran his hands through his spiky hair in irritation. “W-what the hell does it look like, Summer?! We—we—we—we got caught, that’s what’s going on, you dumb bitch!” Rick explained in an irritated tone. His patience was normally okay, a bit on the short side, but he could only take so much when he had a possible head injury as well.

Summer frowned to herself and curled into a little ball. “Well... What are we going to do?” Summer asked, hope radiant on her face. The question got on Rick’s nerves.

“You really are your father’s daughter, huh?” Rick said harshly. When Summer winced, Rick felt bad. Even he thought it was too much. However, he continued. “We basically can’t leave, Summer! M-m-my portal gun broke! We’re either stuck here until I can make another or we die here. There—there aren’t a whole lot of options here.”

Summer’s lower lip quivered and Rick rolled his eyes. The old man shifted, scowling when something hard and circular pressed into his side.

He knew the object was coming from inside his lab coat, he could tell that much. So, Rick went through his coat, searching through all his layers and pockets. Finally, his hands enclosed around the rounded object, and he took it out. Light was cast through the room, making Summer look up, and a lightbulb went off in Rick’s head.

It was the beacon compound!

_“Ohhhhhh shit,_ dawg!” Rick exclaimed, holding up the sacred item like a trophy.

“What is it, grandpa Rick?” Summer asked, squinting against the sudden light.

“I-it’s the beacon compound, Summer!” Rick explained. “Remember it? Remember the beacon compound from chapter two?”

Summer wore a look of contempt on her face. “Uh, no? I have no fucking idea what you’re talking about.”

Rick shook his head, waving his hand about. “It d-doesn’t matter, Summer. What does matter is that we won’t be sleeping here tonight! Let’s go, motherfuckers!” Rick said, turning the beacon compound on with a press of a button on its side. Rick had fixed the formula shortly after first showing it to Morty, but ever since then, he hadn’t used the object. In fact, Rick distantly remembered considering to remove it from his lab coat, thinking about how it was taking up unnecessary room. Rick had always been a bit of a hoarder, but it was in times like these that he was grateful for the fact.

The beacon compound, if possible, lit up the room even more as it scanned said room for any possible places of exit. It took only a few seconds before all the light shot out to one crevice, a crevice that had been easily overlooked by Rick when he first woke up.

“Fuck yeah, baby!” Rick smirked. He threw his hands up in the air and got to his feet, clutching the beacon compound securely. He helped Summer up, and they both made for the crevice.

Rick stooped down to observe it, running his hands all along the concrete, when he felt a tiny ridge. He fiddled with the ridge some and, based on the light that his invention gave off, came to the realization that it was a trapdoor.

“Woah,” Summer said as Rick found the way to open it up. Rick peered back at his granddaughter—who was looking at Rick in wonder—and offered her a smug grin.

“Y-y-you impressed, Summer?” Rick teased. He had to admit, the sheer admiration on her face was making Rick proud of himself.

“I—yes, holy shit, is that even a question?” Summer asked, recovering from her nonplussed behavior.

Rick smirked and gave a slight shrug. He didn’t answer her and only turned back to the trapdoor. “We should be leaving this shithole. I-I’ll go first.”

Summer crossed her arms and Rick climbed down the ladder through the hole in the ground. He didn’t see anything at first, so he shone his light into the room he’d just entered. Automatically, the beacon compound’s light shot out towards a set of double doors and Rick raised his eyebrows.

Rick gave Summer the okay as he climbed down the ladder himself, Summer close behind him.

“I-I-I gotta admit, Summer, this—this escape route is pretty straightforward. I probably could’ve found a way out as soon as I woke up if there had been light in the room,” Rick said, walking towards the doors with Summer at his side. “Though, that might’ve been why it was dark...”

As soon as Rick crossed through the door leading to the next room, a gun was aimed right at Rick’s face. He peered around the barrel of the gun and saw a humanoid alien to be the owner of the gun. The alien wore a fierce look on his face, and he shoved the gun more towards Rick’s chest. Summer let out a gasp and positioned herself behind Rick.

“Freeze! Hands in the air!” The alien demanded.

Rick rolled his eyes but did as he was told, though he did so very halfheartedly.

In his hands, the beacon compound—which during their encounter with the guard had stopped emitting clear light in any general direction—had shot out towards Summer’s ass.

“What the f—“ Summer began, cowering even more behind Rick. The light only followed her again, and it was then that Rick realized why.

Dropping his hands down to his sides, Rick turned to Summer. “Summer, g-give him the fire weed!”

“What?!” Summer exclaimed, still trying to move away from the light that was attracted to her butt.

“Give it to him! Give him the weed, y’know, t-the weed you threw a fit over!” When Summer still looked like she didn’t understand, Rick yelled, “THE WEED IN YOUR POCKET!”

“Oh.”

Instantaneously, the guard lowered his gun. “You have fire weed?” The guard inquired. He wore a look of interest.

Rick took the opportunity and ran with it. “Y-yeah! Do you want some? We’ll only give it to you if you let us pass by, no harm done,” Rick bargained.

The guard nodded eagerly but seemed to reconsider a moment afterward. “I shouldn’t... It’s illegal for anyone but royalty to possess.”

Rick waved a hand in dismissal. “Then don’t let anyone know about—URP—it, obviously. P-problem solved.”

The guard sighed and smiled, grabbing for the fire weed that Summer had brought out of her pocket. She protested a bit when it was released from her grip, but she let it go when Rick shot her a glare.

The guard brought it up to his face, his gun now in his holster, but before the alien could do anything, Rick lunged at the alien, snatched its gun, and shot the guard in the forehead.

Summer let out a shriek, her eyes wide in surprise. “Grandpa Rick! He was letting us go!”

Rick grunted, getting back to his feet. “You obviously don’t know about these types of dwellers, huh?” When Summer confirmed his suspicions by shaking her head, Rick launched into an explanation. “He probably would’ve killed us anyway, even—even though we negotiated with him. Though even if he hadn’t shot us, there will probably be other aliens that we’ll pass by and we need to defend ourselves. I don’t have any weapons now, so we should be armed as much as possible. And anyway, this way, we get to keep your f-fire weed. So quit your yapping and follow me.”

Summer huffed and reached for her fire weed. It was obvious to Rick that she still didn’t understand, not fully, but it was okay because she would learn.

* * *

Just as expected, they’d come across other aliens wanting to kill them on their way to wherever the light from the beacon compound led them.

“Woah... cool place,” Summer marveled, observing every last aspect of the control room that they’d been left in.

Rick nodded numbly in response—his main focus was on following the light to wherever the hell it was leading him. As he walked through the room even more, he grew curious as to how he was supposed to get out of the foreign place. He’d completely forgotten about his initial reasoning to come there, for his Sênëntry seeds; he just wanted to get the fuck out of there.

As he walked forward once more, the light from the beacon compound increased, causing Rick to look up. There, on a count, sat his portal gun, with various electrical parts surrounding it, enough to repair the broken device.

Rick gawked at his beacon compound. “Jesus, I struck gold with the idea for this thing!” Rick exclaimed. He settled to work on his portal gun, estimating that it would take about ten minutes to repair it.

Three minutes in, he sensed Summer walk up to his side. She pulled at his lab coat irritatingly.

Rick groaned. “What is it?” He snapped.

Summer was holding something behind her back nonchalantly, and she was wearing a cocky smile. “So, grandpa, didn’t we lose our Sênëntry seeds?” Summer asked. A smile poked further at her lips.

“Yeah. And?” He asked. He had turned back to his portal gun only for Summer to elbow him in the side.

“The fuck is your p—“

But he was cut off by Summer shoving a bag—it must’ve contained 12 pounds—full to the brim with Sênëntry seeds.

“I—holy shit, Summer for the _win!”_ Rick exclaimed, taking the bag from her and fully observed it. It had enough seeds to last him a decade worth of science, nonetheless what he needed the seeds for right then!

“Booyah,” Summer said to herself. Rick ignored it and turned back to his portal gun, now considerably happier about the seeds Summer had supplied him with. Summer decided to stand by his side and watch as he messed with the portal gun, adjusting it so that it would be perfect.

Finally, in just a few minutes, the portal gun was in perfect condition, and they were ready to leave.

“O-okay, Summer, we’re ready,” Rick said, putting in the coordinates for Earth.

He fired the portal gun at the wall and went to grab the bag of Sênëntry seeds while Summer went through the portal. Rick was right after her, and, sure enough, was welcomed to the sight of the Smith family’s front lawn.

“Oh thank god!” Summer sighed, immediately curling in on herself.

She started to move towards the front door, but Rick grabbed her arm and held her back.

“W-we should probably clean up before your parents see you,” Rick advised. He was right—Summer’s clothes were dirtied and torn, her hair was matted with sweat and a bit of blood (now, whether it was her own blood or the blood of her enemies, Rick wasn’t sure) and Rick’s lab coat was  completely stained with blood, so it would be in their best interests to tidy Summer and Rick up, unless they wanted to get chewed out by Beth and Jerry.

Summer agreed and Rick led her to the garage.

“Why are we in here?” Summer asked, scrunching up her nose.

“Because,  Summer, we need a private place to d-do this shit,” Rick said going through his cabinets. He’d made sure to duplicate articles of his family’s clothing and leave them in the garage just for this reason, but where had he—bingo!

Rick took a pink tank top and a white pair of pants from out of the cabinet. He tossed the clothes to Summer and she caught them.

“Wash up,” Rick said, changing out of his own lab coat and replacing it with another. “U-use the sink, y’know, by the washing machine?” Summer nodded and, when she was done dressing herself, moved towards the sink to wash her hair.

Rick tidied himself up as well, but it took a lot less time for him to be done than it took Summer. 

Finally, when she had finished, Rick cleared his throat. He was right by the door, his hand on the handle, about to walk into the kitchen. “S-so we should probably get our story straight on where we were.” Summer shrugged and Rick continued. “If anyone asks, we were getting ice cream.”

Rick didn’t allow her to reply as he swung open the garage door. He was greeted with the sight of his daughter standing at the stove, cooking dinner. She turned around upon hearing the door open and smiled.

“Hey you two,” Beth chirped. She turned back around to work on the dinner she was making.

“Hi sweetie,” and “Hi mom,” were both said as Rick and Summer entered the room.

“What were you two doing?” Beth asked, turning her head to look at her father and daughter.

“Er, ice cream—we were getting ice cream,” Rick said. Summer nodded frantically to confirm what the elder had said.

“Oh,” Beth said. An odd look of jealousy came onto her face, and Rick only saw it for a second before she moved away. “...Well, that’s nice.”

Summer looked uncomfortable and Rick  felt as uncomfortable as Summer looked. Sheesh. What was Beth’s deal?

“I’m gonna go into the living room...” Summer said, not staying long enough to hear a response.

A few seconds ticked by.

Rick coughed to relieve the tension in the room. “So, Beth...how was Morty’s physical therapy?”

And Beth seemed to feel more comfortable with the topic, something Rick was grateful for. “It was fine. We just went over some of his treatment plans and some exercises to start out with.”

Rick nodded. “And uh...w-where is he?”

“Oh, Morty’s in the living room,” Beth smiled. “You can go in there if you would like. I’m sure he’d like to see you, Dad. Just be careful not to be too loud, he’s pretty tired.”

Rick barely suppressed a snort.  Morty  was tired? Rick felt like he’d just run thirty miles.

“Sure thing, honey,” Rick said and he left the room.

Sure enough, Morty was laid out on the couch, a blue blanket draped over his lap, and with Summer sitting to his right. And Morty  did  indeed look tired, Rick noticed as he sat down to Morty’s left.

“Hey, kid,” Rick said, leaning back in his seat and swinging his right arm around the back of the couch.

Morty turned to Rick and smiled. His eyes were weary and Morty wore his nasal cannula. “H-hi, Rick.”

“I was just telling him about what we did today,” Summer piped up.

“I-I w-wish I could’ve b-been there,” Morty said longingly. “D-did you two  really  get kidnapped by aliens?”

Rick took a sip from his flask, feeling alcohol numbing some of the leftover pain. He hadn’t had his flask all day, so it was nice to drink after so long.

“Y-yup.”

“W-woah,” Morty breathed. The boy let out a yawn after that and seeing him yawn made Rick realize how tired he really was which caused him to yawn as well. Summer yawned too, and it set off a chain reaction.

The three of them burst into light and sleepy laughter once they were done yawning, all amused by the outbreak of yawns that Morty caused.

“Jesus fucking Christ, w-we’re acting like a bunch of idiots,” Rick remarked, grabbing for the remote.

Rick turned on the Tv and redirected his attention to it. It was on the news, not something he was necessarily interested in, but he was tired and he didn’t want to devote all his remaining stamina towards comprehending plots of inconsistencies.

Soon though, after a few minutes, Morty had passed out, sleeping soundly pressed against Rick, and Summer followed Morty’s lead not too long afterward.

Sleep tugged at Rick’s eyelids as well, but he didn’t let the deprivation take hold of him yet. Rick allowed himself to observe Morty’s peaceful, young face as he slept. The man stared, but only for a moment before he grew content and turned away.

After that, it was with a smile that Rick fell asleep.

* * *

“Kids?” Beth called out, peeking her head out to the living room. “Dad? Dinner’s ready!”

She could see the backs of their heads, and that meant they were still there where she’d left them, so  why  they didn’t get up when she called for dinner was a mystery to her.

“Summer? Morty?” Beth tried again. She huffed after another minute of silence went by.

She shot Jerry—who was sitting in the dining room—an irritated look and he shrugged back at her. “Hey, don’t look at me!” Jerry defended. “I just got back from work!”

Beth folded her arms. “Oh shut up, Jerry,” Beth said, rolling her eyes.

Jerry sighed. “Okay, Beth.”

Beth ignored her husband again as she began making her way to the living room.

“Okay, I don't know what the  hell  you three are—“ Beth began, but stopped halfway in her sentence.

There on the couch laid her father, son, and daughter practically piled up on one another in slumber.

The visual made Beth’s heart clench in yearning, yearning for the kind of affection from her father that she’d never received as a child, but she also felt happy. Happy for her kids, happy that her father was apparently trying to right his previous behavior and connect more with his family.

So Beth would let them sleep.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> art done by: me! :D
> 
> if you want to see the full picture, [ here's](https://is-trash-hi.tumblr.com/post/190709079039/this-is-some-fanart-for-one-of-my-fanfictions) the link to the post on tumblr!


End file.
